An Artist's Touch
by princesspomegranate
Summary: Cassandra McLaren wakes up in the wrong time; in Roman Britain. When a Knight finds her alone in the forest, he takes her back to the Fort and her life changes forever. Eventual Tristan/OC. I own nothing but Cass.
1. Where Not To Fall Asleep

"Cassandra? Cassandra McLaren, are you paying attention?"

Black curls jolted as if they themselves had been frightened by the woman's voice. The girl behind them blinked her large eyes at her teacher and remained silent. The teacher was persistent and waited for a response.

"Er, well, you see..."

"See me after class, Cassandra," the teacher said, before resuming her lesson.

The English lesson that Cass really wasn't paying attention to, in which her teacher spoke of some boring and long-dead poet, finished half an hour later. The other students had dispersed and Cass slowly made her way to her teacher's desk, waiting for yet another lecture about her interest and commitment to her work.

"Miss Stephens?"

The woman in front of her looked up from her rectangular glasses and sighed, putting down the poetry book she held.

"Cassandra. Cassandra, what am I going to do with you?" Miss Stephens said in an exasperated tone.

The petite girl stood in front of her teacher and shrugged her shoulders, her hand moving to brush a piece of hair from her pale face.

"This is your last year at school, your last year to get the grades that could decide your future, and you're spending half of it daydreaming. I'm just worried that if you don't pay attention now, then it'll affect you later on."

Cass exhaled and said, "I understand... I really hadn't meant to daydream, I just do sometimes..."

"Yes, I know that Cassandra, but you need to focus more."

"I'll try my hardest, Miss. I really don't mean to..."

Miss Stephens nodded her head and told Cass she could go. She hadn't believed Cass, because she'd heard her say the same words before and it hadn't made any difference to where her attention lay. On her way out Cass grabbed her things and headed off to the Art Department; her favourite place. She sat in the corner of the room, away from the noisy gossipers, with her iPod plugged in. Cass shut out her world when she was working on her art. The hour long lesson ended far too early for her liking, but she took her sketch pad and packed away when her time there was up.

Art was her last class of the day, so Cass got into her car, a small silver thing that was perfect for only her, and drove away. She drove to the forest near the small village she lived in, taking only a canvas and her paints with her in a black shoulder bag. The forest crowded around Cass, but she didn't mind the closeness of the trees. The trees weren't like the people she knew, so loud and busy. She always thought that it was as if nobody ever paid attention to anything anymore, so she always felt apart from those she knew. The trees, though, whose own limbs intertwined with others, radiated a sense of calm; a strength or unity that Cass was always drawn to.

After walking a while, she found the perfect place for her painting, where the sun fell through breaks in the branches and illuminated the fallen leaves with spots of golden light. It was beautiful. Cass took her time over the painting, carefully mixing and applying paint to the intricate details of the picture. When she was done she noticed that the light was almost gone, and thought she'd better get home before she could no longer see.

Cass gathered her paints and slipped them into her bag, before throwing it over her shoulder and picking up her canvas. She turned from the spot she had so carefully captured in her painting and left it for good; she'd probably never find her way there again. The only problem she had now was that she wasn't sure how to find her way back. Cass sighed and walked off to her right, she was sure she'd found her spot from that direction.

Cass walked for at least an hour before finally stopping. She wasn't even sure if she'd been walking in circles, let alone if she was any closer to her car. She was well and truly lost. And that frightened her. The closeness of the trees was still a comfort, as it blocked most of the wind that traversed the forest, but the trees could do nothing for the chill that permeated the air on an autumn night. Cass shivered, glad that she chose to wear skinny jeans, boots and a hooded jacket instead of the skirt she had pondered on that morning.

Cass looked around herself. It was no use; the trees that she had loved hanging over her like a protective shield, were now barring her from the light of the moon, imprisoning her beneath their embrace. It had gotten so dark that she could barely see her own hands when she sat down with her back against a tree, its bark uncomfortably imprinting on her back. Cass wrapped herself up as well as she could in her jacket, using her canvas as a make-shift, and unsuccessful, blanket for her legs.

She wasn't sure what to do. She felt so tired, but wasn't sure she really wanted to fall asleep in a place where she was alone; and vulnerable. It took some time before her eyes finally closed, and that wasn't because of her choosing. Exhaustion and the bitter frost of the air took over her body, shutting her eyes to the outside world and to the darkness it radiated.


	2. More Lost Than Ever Before

Birds chirping. Tweeting. Cass was awoken by the twittering of birds, though when she opened her eyes, she could see nothing of them. She looked around her, picking up her bag and the canvas that she must have accidentally kicked away at some point in her sleep. It was almost as if, in the darkness, she had wandered into a different forest altogether. The trees here seemed different, they had more to them, yet they seemed younger, and most still had red and orange leaves clinging to their branches.

Cass struggled to her feet, her bones aching as if the previous night's cold air had frozen them stiff. She held her things to her and started walking off to her right, her stomach grumbling and spurring her onwards. Cass stumbled over a root that stuck into her path like fingers reaching out to trip her. She glared at it and carried on. The forest seemed to thin before her, so she continued, taking it as a good sign. All she needed to do was reach the road and then she'd be able to get to her car.

At the edge of the forest, Cass stopped. Not because of traffic, or speeding cars on the road, but because the road was not what was in front of her. She looked out to the expanse of grassy land in front of her, the long green blades swaying in a gentle breeze. It was what lay beyond the field in front of her that caused her to pause. There was a long, tall wall that met a fort Cass had never seen before.

Cass was confused. How far had she walked last night?

She blinked when she saw some men riding towards the Fort. The men surprised her; the clothes they were wearing weren't normal, she wondered if they had dressed up for something. After staring at them until they entered the fort, she could have sworn that they were wearing some sort of roman uniform, what with the helmets and the red cape billowing behind them.

Cass tried to remember if she'd hit her head the night before, because the whole morning seemed incredibly odd to her.

"Turn around slowly," Cass heard a deep, calm male voice say.

Doing as she was instructed, Cass turned slowly, revealing to her a man with an arrow trained on her. She blinked and took a breath. The man before her was wearing some sort of armour, with a cloak hanging around his neck. His dark mess of hair, though plaited in places, hung down to his shoulders, almost as if to frame the peculiar tattoos on his face. The man stood in silence, as did Cass, until he finally spoke.

"Who are you?"

Cass blinked. She had entirely no idea what was going on, or who this man was, or why, for that matter, he had an arrow pointed at her face.

"My name is Cassandra. Cassandra McLaren," she said simply, unsure of what else she could say.

After another long silence Cass said, "I'm sorry, but... Where are we?"

The man stared at her, no sense of a readable emotion in his expression, before saying, "Near Hadrian's Wall."

Cass looked at the man. She lived quite far away from Hadrian's Wall; and the ruins of Hadrian's Wall certainly didn't look like the wall she had just looked at.

"You're kidding, right? Is this is some sort of practical joke, or something?"

He said nothing. He was becoming just as confused by her as she was by her situation, only he wouldn't let it show.

"I don't understand!" she said, anxiety plaguing her voice.

He could see her becoming more and more frustrated as time went on. After a while, she finally worked up the courage to ask him who was in control of Britain at the present time. The man thought it an odd question, but answered her anyway.

"The Romans control the South of the Wall, the Woads have the North."

Cass closed her eyes. SHIT, was pretty much the only thought she could process on hearing this. Something weird had happened, something incredibly unreal. She was in Roman Britain. After losing herself in thought for a moment, she opened her eyes again.

"Who are you?" Cass asked, genuinely curious.

The man tilted his head as if considering whether it would make a difference should she know.

"Tristan," he grunted to her.

Cass was taken aback.

"Wait a second; you don't happen to know an Arthur do you?"

He paused again, before giving her a nod. Cass' knees felt weak. She sat down, regardless of where Tristan's arrow was pointed. Not only was she in Roman Britain, she was in the time of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. She could almost laugh. She had always imagined this- living back in King Arthur's time- she'd just never expected to actually be there.

"I'm sorry Tristan... I'm just... Lost," she said, not knowing how to even phrase her predicament.

Tristan's eyes scanned the girl on the ground. She appeared to be so out of place; and her clothes, he had never seen their like before. She seemed genuinely lost, in more ways than one. After a moment considering her, he decided on a plan of action.

"Come. I'll take you to Arthur," he said, lowering his bow.

She looked up at him as he offered his hand to her. There was something in her blue eyes that he couldn't read, but it wasn't the emotion he had been expecting. Cass wasn't sure what to do. What would happen if she met Arthur; _the_ King Arthur? She really had no choice though; and if anyone would help her, it would be Arthur and his Knights... She hoped.

Cass took Tristan's hand as he helped her to her feet. He released it as soon as she was standing. She followed Tristan as he led her to his horse and mounted it. Cass just stared at the animal. She loved horses; correction, she loved _looking_ at horses, she wasn't entirely sure about riding them. But as Tristan held out his hand for her to climb up on his horse, she stepped up; holding her things close to her chest as they began their ride.

Cass didn't hate the ride to the Fort as much as she thought she would have; though later she assumed that that was just because she was grateful Tristan had somehow managed to keep her from falling off the horse. As they neared the Fort, the gates opened for them; and Cass gasped at the sight of the Fort she had imagined so many times, the sight of the Fort that was quite different from what she'd imagined.


	3. The Waiting Game

The Gates were tall and very heavy; solid. Utterly solid, was the best description she could find for them. Cass heard heavy thuds and a scraping sound as the gates were heaved open for her and the Knight. Tristan did not stop when they were through, but continued to ride through the Fort. Cass could see the Fort's inhabitants staring at them and tried to hide herself, letting some of her black curls fall in front of her face. They reached a smaller, metal-barred courtyard that's gates opened for them, just as the other gates had. Behind the gate, Cass could see that the open courtyard, with its dirt floor, clearly welcomed horses on a regular basis. Tristan dismounted, leaving Cass atop of the animal that she was still unsure of.

"Stay here," he said, walking away from her and into the building before them.

Cass stared after him. Had he really just left her here? Alone? In the middle of a place where she could no more easily blend in than a purple cow?

The horse stamped its foot impatiently, and Cass quickly held tight to the saddle, fearing it would decide it wanted her off and would buck at any second. It didn't; but to be safe, Cass slid off the horse and stood to its side, her back to the building Tristan had disappeared into, her eyes fixated on the creature in front of her. She exhaled. Horses were so unpredictable.

The sun was high in the sky and few clouds encroached on its dazzling, almost blinding light, so Cass backed further away from the horse she could no longer really see properly. It stamped its foot again and whinnied, almost as if it knew she was ill at ease around it and was laughing at her. She frowned at it.

Cass' attention was promptly distracted though, when she noticed that, through the metal railings surrounding the courtyard, she was being watched. There were more than one pair eyes glaring at her. _Oh great_, she thought, _I feel like a monkey in a zoo_. Cass sighed, reluctantly moving closer to Tristan's horse as if to shield herself from their gaze, preferring a potentially volatile animal to dozens of judgemental eyes. She spied figures on the other side of the railings, some of them whispering, and shrank down, bending her legs, so that she could no longer see over the horse. Cass hated being stared at. She was always grateful, back at home, at how she was overlooked by almost everyone around her. It wasn't as if she was shy, Cass just didn't like not knowing what was going on in people's minds when they looked at her.

After spending minutes in what she felt was an awkward and uncomfortable position, behind a creature that she had decided, did not like her, as it kept shaking its head to where she stood; Tristan returned. He was followed by another man, who wore a Roman officer's uniform, but somehow didn't look entirely Roman. Cass could only assume that he was Arthur. _King Arthur._ The man of legend. Only, this was the Arthur before he was King; Cass made a mental note to mention nothing that she knew of him and the Knights from the stories she'd read or heard.

The Briton in the man, or his mentality, which she knew to be almost entirely as un-Roman as was possible, set him apart from the Roman officer's she'd seen upon entering the Fort. Cass could see in him everything that she'd heard told in stories, but she could also see that there seemed to be so much more to him than even that.

Tristan and Arthur were talking too quietly for Cass to hear their conversation, but she knew that they were talking about her. As Tristan spoke, Arthur's eyes travelled over her, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion as he saw her unusual clothes. He said something to Tristan before turning back into the building from which he had emerged. Tristan watched him leave before looking back at Cass.

"This way," he said, motioning for her to follow him.

Cass stepped away from the horse, glad to be further away from the unpredictable animal, which whinnied again as she left it behind. She had to stop herself from running into the building after Tristan, so that she could be free from the unnerving glare of those unfamiliar faces watching her. All together she was just incredibly glad to be out of that courtyard and into a place where no one was watching her anymore.

As they entered the building, she asked in as polite a tone as she could, "What, er... Where are we going?"

Tristan glanced sideways at her, his expression as masked as ever, and kept walking. His dark cape swayed behind him, as it caught the air when he walked.

"Arthur's calling the Knights to a meeting."

Seeing her blank expression, he added, "So we can discuss you."

Cass stopped and blinked; but the dark, mysterious Knight continued as if he hadn't noticed. Cass found that he had actually increased his pace when she had stopped, and that to catch up with him from her momentary pause, she almost had to run.

"Wait, a meeting? Is that really necessary?" Cass questioned him, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious that a group of legendary figures were going to sit down and have a chat about boring little her.

Tristan shrugged, turning down a corridor to the left.

"But what... I don't really understand why there needs to be a meeting... I..."

She trailed off as the corridor ended and they stopped before two wooden doors, one directly in front of them and the other to their right. Tristan opened the door on their right, and motioned her inside. The room was small and windowless, the only light emanating from two small candles on a table. _Pleasant room, _she thought sarcastically. Tristan indicated for Cass to sit down on the cushioned, wooden chair beside the table.

When she had sat down he said, "Wait here. Someone will come for you when it's time."

He left the room before she could compose a reply, shutting the door behind him. The candlelight flickered from the sudden breeze that the fast closing door had caused. _At least no one can stare at me in here_, she thought. Cass rubbed her hands together nervously as she sat alone and waited. She started to scrape bits of paint that had dried to her skin away; and she waited. Cass noticed how the light from the dual flames beside her was dancing across the room, creating golden waves across the floor. She let out a long sigh.

"Oh Cass, what have you gotten yourself into?" she murmured, to no one but herself in the semi-darkness.


	4. Consideration And Decisions

Tristan pulled the door shut quickly. He stood outside, considering the peculiar girl that he'd found in the forest. She seemed different, somehow. His thoughts were interrupted when Dagonet rounded the corner and started walking towards him. He gave a polite nod towards Tristan as a greeting, which Tristan returned. Tristan had always found Dagonet the easiest of the Knights to be around, probably because of his quiet nature.

Together, the two men walked through the door, into the adjoining room that didn't house their mysterious, new guest. Inside, they found that Arthur and the rest of the Knights were already assembled; sat in their usual places around the round table before them. Once Dagonet and Tristan had taken their seats, Arthur stood.

"Knights; I've called you all here for this meeting at Tristan's request," Arthur said plainly.

"Today, Tristan found a girl in the forest and-"

"-And he thought he'd bring her back to meet me?" Lancelot interrupted, a smirk on his face, as he leaned forward to rest an elbow on the table. "Why Tristan, I'm flattered."

One unimpressed glance from Tristan's usually passive expression was enough to send Bors into a fit of laughter, while the other Knights tried hard to resist joining him. It was only when Arthur held up a hand that the laughter stopped and the Knights, though smiling more than before, sat ready to listen again.

"Tristan? If you would."

Tristan nodded to Arthur, and stood to look at his fellow Knights, who, joking aside; seemed more than vaguely intrigued to learn about the girl that had so captured their scout's attention. Tristan started his report from his usual, self-imposed morning scouting mission; beginning with how there was nothing unusual in the area surrounding the Fort. It was only when he was on his way back that he had heard something and went to investigate.

Tristan explained how he had observed the girl walking through the forest, wearing clothes of a style he had never seen before. How he saw her trip over a tree root that had obviously been in her route, and pause to glare at it, as if her mind was not entirely focussed on her wandering. Tristan recalled how the girl had stopped at the forest's edge and stood stock still for a while, staring at the Fort.

Tristan then revealed to the others how he had aimed his arrow at her, in case she presented a threat, and told her to turn. When she turned, he told them that she hadn't been frightened, but merely looked confused and how after a silence, she had asked where they were.

"When I told her she became more confused. She just sat down and told me she was lost," Tristan paused, almost as if he had finished his report.

"When I told her my name, she mentioned you, Arthur. I think it's the reason she agreed to come here with me. She recognised us," he added.

Tristan sat down again, as a signal that he had finished, and leaned into his chair. The other Knights turned to look at Arthur, who nodded his head slowly, a small frown menacing his features. His hand moved in front of his mouth as he considered Tristan's tale.

"Bring her in," he said, finally.

Before anyone else had the chance to move, Tristan, though one of the furthest from the door, walked out of the room. When he returned, the Knights were greeted by the sight of the strange girl they had heard about. Frowns and confusion found the faces of the Knights as they stared at her. Cass blushed as Tristan left her alone before the stares of the assembled group. Arthur was the first to speak.

"I am Arthur Castus. But from what Tristan has told us, you probably already knew that."

She stared at Arthur, not really knowing what to say; then tilted her head to the side slightly before murmuring, "I guessed you were, from when I saw you earlier... Otherwise, I only know you by name."

Arthur dipped his head slightly, and continued, "Tristan has already explained how he found you, but I'd like you to tell us about yourself- where you're from; then maybe we can help you get home."

"I doubt that," Cass said, before she could stop herself.

Her hand flew to her mouth as she saw the suspicious looks and raised eyebrows that returned her words.

"I- I didn't mean... Oh bollocks," she finished lamely.

Cass watched as one of the bigger Knights, a man with a shaved head, leaned forward and started to laugh.

"I don't know who she is, but I like her already," Bors sniggered to the other Knights.

She simply looked at him, not really sure whether to take his words as a compliment. Arthur, again, was the one to set conversation back on track.

"Please. Continue."

Cass let out a long breath before speaking. She had only just decided what she could say to Arthur and his Knights. And it could all be about to go terribly wrong. She started to fiddle with the zip of her jacket, in an attempt to distract herself.

"Well, I don't really know how I can begin to explain..." she began, but cut herself short, deciding it was perhaps better to be blunt.

"I'm not going to lie, or beat around the bush. What I'm going to tell you is going to make me sound completely crazy- I'm not even sure if I'm not crazy in all honesty- but it's the truth."

The Knights continued to stare at her, the girl who had by now secured their complete attention. She turned her gaze back to them, in particular, focussing on Arthur.

"My name is Cassandra McLaren. I was born in Britain. I was born... in the year 1992AD."

Cass saw what looked to be the youngest Knight glance to the long haired Knight beside him; she could see the disbelief in his eyes; she could see that he really did think that she was crazy. She did not lose focus though.

"I don't know why, or how it is, that I am here. All I remember is this: I went into the forest near where I live to paint- the canvas I painted is in the other room- and I took too long painting. It got dark, and I got lost. I ended up sleeping against a tree, and when I woke up, I tried to find my way out of the forest. I thought I would find a road at its edge, not a Fort; not _this_ Fort."

She stopped, taking a deep breath before adding, "What I told Tristan is true. I'm just... Lost. Only more so than I ever knew it was possible to be."

There was a silence; almost as if the room itself had been stunned. No one said anything, so Cass returned to fiddling with her zip, her fingers now shaking slightly.

"Thank you," Arthur's voice said, breaking the silent spell the room seemed enchanted by.

"Galahad, will you take Cassandra back to the other room, for a moment?"

The young Knight, who Cass was sure didn't believe a word she had said, stood and held the door for Cass. She obediently walked back into the dark little room she had waited in before, fully ready to begin waiting again; knowing that she had said all she could. Her fate was no longer in her hands.

As soon as Galahad shut the door to the conference room behind him, he held out his arms and, with a grin on his face, said, "Well, she's lovely- and _completely_ nuts."

Bors started to laugh again, but not to quite the same degree as before. This time, he wasn't sure he entirely agreed with Galahad's comment about the girl's story.

Gawain grinned at his friend, "Never the optimist, are you Galahad?"

"What, and you'd actually believe that drivel?"

Gawain shrugged.

"There's more to her than meets the eye, it would seem," Lancelot put in.

"But I do think Galahad has a point."

"It's certainly unlikely, but I don't know; why would she make up something so ridiculous?" Gawain asked.

Dagonet tilted his head in agreement.

"Didn't you hear her, when she spoke; it wasn't about what she was saying, but _how_ she said it."

Gawain paused, looking at his commander and brothers, his fellow Knights.

"Something makes me want to believe her."

Arthur ran a hand through his dark hair, before saying in a low voice, "I agree with Gawain. There was something in her voice, and the way she acted, that had an air of truth."

He sighed before continuing, "It's almost as if you can feel that there's something different about her, something not of this time..."

Lancelot nodded, his eyes remaining on the table as he recalled the girl and understood his friend's meaning. Slowly, after much debate, most of the others conceded that Arthur's words had truth to them. Until it was only Galahad left, that was still doubtful of the girl.

"So, Knights, it is decided. We will attempt to help Cassandra while she is here. That way, if she is telling the truth, we will have done the right thing-"

"-And if she has lied, she'll be close enough for us to find out why," Lancelot interjected, tilting his head and smirking again.

Arthur gave a brief nod in Lancelot's direction, before saying, "Bring her back in."


	5. The Father And His Woman At Work

Cass stared straight ahead of her, holding her canvas and bag to her as she was taken from the building in which she'd met Arthur and his Knights. The man leading her way, Bors, he'd said his name was, walked in front of her, with one stride for every two of her own. Cass followed as closely behind as she could, but was never quite able to catch up with the Knight.

Cass still couldn't believe what had just happened. She had waited in that dark room for over thirty minutes, and in that time, managed to convince herself that the Knights didn't believe her, all the while contemplating whatever awaited her next. In her mind, all outcomes had been negative. In fact, the result she was given upon re-entering the conference room was better than she could ever have hoped for. The Knights were going to help her.

Cass smiled as she recalled how Arthur had told her that, after talking things over, they had decided they would help her by finding her a job and a place to stay. A job; that was where Bors was taking her now, so that she could find work and be able to support herself at the Fort. Or at least, she'd thought that was where she was going, until Bors stopped outside of a small building that looked to Cass more like a house than a place of work. _Oh no_, she thought, _not a job as a maid?_ If she was right, she was doomed. Cass couldn't keep her room clean in the 21st Century- and that was with all the intense cleaning products available- she couldn't begin to imagine how pathetic she's be in this Century.

Bors pushed open the door- only to immediately be hit by a flurry of three small bodies. Cass stared at the four, unsure of how the Knight would react to the children now clinging to his legs. She watched as Bors' face transformed into a grin and he began to laugh, ruffling the hair of one of the children latched to his leg. Cass' lip twitched at his reaction; she wanted to smile. She hadn't expected the big Knight to react in such a way to the children. Bors heaved the smallest girl into his arms, resting her weight on his hip.

"Daddy's home!" Cass heard her tiny voice shout into the house.

As Bors was about to walk into his house, he ushered Cass inside before him. Cass's eyes widened at the sight of even more children in front of her, all trying to get to Bors.

"Couldn't resist," Bors said, winking at her, as Cass was flattened to the wall by the children rushing towards him.

"All right, calm down my little bastards. Where's your mother?" Bors roared, not angrily, but just to be heard over the voices of, as far as Cass could see ten children.

Almost all of the children fought to be heard, until Bors managed to figure out that they were telling him she was at work. Bors nodded to the children and then told them to go outside.

"Go on, get out. Get some exercise. Go on," he added, as the last of the children disappeared through the open doorway.

Cass stood alone with Bors in the corridor, and thought that the house felt much lonelier without the noise and craziness the children had brought.

"Bors?" she asked quietly.

"Are they all _your_ _children_?"

Bors nodded, replying, "Not my fault. It's their mother- can't help herself around me."

He winked. This time Cass allowed herself to smile. It seemed that Bors really was a soft touch at heart, not just the intimidating Knight she had originally thought him to be- the intimidating Knight that she was sure he could still be, should he wish it.

"Anyway," Bors said, as he walked further into his house.

"We're here for your clothes."

Cass blinked.

"My clothes?"

"Well you can't go around wearing those. Unless you want to be killed by Romans. Or Woads."

He paused.

"Best to change really," he finished, shrugging his shoulders and smiling at her.

Cass took a breath and nodded. At least she'd blend in if she changed. Bors led her to a room that housed a bed and stacks of clothing. After fishing through a pile, Bors pulled out three dresses; one black, one blue and one a dark red. Cass frowned and was hesitant to accept them.

Bors pushed them into her hands and said, "Take them. They're too small for Vanora."

Bors left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Through the wooden door separating them, he shouted, "I'll wait here until you're done."

Cass smiled and shook her head. She took off her clothes and quickly slipped into the deep crimson dress. It was too long. Cass was only five foot, two inches tall so she assumed that Bors'... Vanora, must be reasonably taller than her. Cass packed her clothes into her black bag, deciding to leave her canvas, as the only payment she had for the dresses. Cass lifted the dress slightly with one hand, just enough so that she didn't trip. When she opened the door, Cass saw Bors leaning against the opposite wall of the corridor.

He let out a breath as he looked her up and down, joking, "Don't let Lancelot see you like that; you'll have to find a bat just to beat him off."

Cass blushed. She didn't say anything in return. She wasn't sure if she actually looked alright, or if he was just messing with her; all she knew is that she felt much more comfortable in the dress than she had before.

"Come on," Bors said.

"I'll take you to Vanora. She always welcomes some help in the tavern."

"Like serving people?" Cass asked.

"No, she's going to feed you to the customers. Of course serving people."

Cass smiled, ignoring the sarcasm. Serving people. _That_, she could do. Back at home, she had worked as a part-time waitress. _Things are looking brighter already_, she thought, _well brighter than if I'd had to be a maid anyway_.

It didn't take long for her and Bors to reach the tavern, but walking through the Fort this time was a very different experience for Cass. No one was staring at her, save for the odd person that looked up to see who passed. Cass blended in; and she liked it.

As soon as they neared the tavern, Cass identified a red haired woman serving the tavern's patrons. She was the only woman that Cass could see doing anything that actually resembled work, and so Cass supposed that she must be Vanora. When the pretty woman saw Bors, her face lit up with a smile. She waited where she was for Bors, and kissed him fiercely when he reached her. Cass stood behind them, looking away and feeling slightly uncomfortable at their extremely public show of affection. When Bors pulled away, his arm circled the woman's waist, pulling her to him.

"Vanora," he said, kissing her head.

"This is Cassandra. Tristan found her in the woods today," he continued, as her eyebrows rose.

"She's not from around here. Arthur wants to know if she can give you a hand here."

Vanora looked at Cass and smiled to her, before turning back to Bors and saying, "Not that I mind, but is she wearing my dress?"

Cass went red again, which made Bors roar with laughter.

"I'll explain later," Bors said, as he squeezed Vanora to him, kissing her again and walking away.

Cass watched him walk away, her cheeks still burning red. Vanora grinned at her and took her arm.

"Don't worry, you look much better in it than I ever did," she whispered into Cass' ear.

After a quick talk with Vanora, Cass began to work. She thought her experience would have helped her, and it did- to an extent. Only, when she served customers in the Britain she knew, she recalled such a thing as sexual harassment laws. There was nothing of the like here to stop drunken men attempting to flirt, or worse, with Cass. Though luckily, Cass did have Vanora, who took over the more _touchy-feely_ customers, that Cass felt she was much more capable of dealing with.

Cass stopped for a moment, taking a rest by the bar. She noticed that the sky had now darkened to an inky blue; the day had passed quite quickly, considering how much had happened. That was when she saw familiar faces return to the tavern; Arthur and his Knights. Cass saw Vanora go straight to Bors, though this time was less uncomfortable about their kissing, because she could see something between them- a sort of love that made it not matter who else was watching. After speaking with the Knights, and pouring their drinks, Vanora walked back over to Cass.

"Arthur wants to speak to you," she said, placing an empty jug on top of the bar.

Cass pushed off from the bar and glanced over to where Arthur and the Knights were seated. When she reached them, she stood before Arthur and gave he and the Knights a brief smile in greeting.

"Vanora said you wanted to see me?" Cass said, fiddling with the sleeve of her new dress.

"Yes. You certainly seem to... fit in more easily in your new clothes-" Arthur began.

"Fit in? She'll have to be careful she doesn't pop out," Lancelot said with a smirk.

Cass stared at him and turned bright red. It was true that the dress was a little snug around her chest; however she hadn't expected it to be so blatantly pointed out. Cass turned back to Arthur as most of the Knights laughed at her reaction. She didn't see it, but the quiet Knight, Tristan, merely stared at her as he turned a small knife in his hands.

To save her from her embarrassment, Arthur continued, "We've found you a room. It's in the same building as some of the Knights' rooms; one of them will take you there later."

Cass paused.

"Oh," she said.

"Thank you..."

Arthur nodded to her, before exiting the tavern. As she watched him leave, Cass wondered where he was going, and turned back to the Knights he had left her with, steadying herself for any more comments designed to make her blush.


	6. Of Quiet Natured Men

"Anything I can get for you?" Cass asked the Knights, fully expecting a number of inappropriate responses in return.

Some of the Knights looked at her grinning; until the long haired man beside Galahad chuckled.

"Too easy..." Gawain said, shaking his head as he smirked at her.

The other Knights laughed, Bors' throaty guffaw booming over the rest; Cass had a feeling she was going to be hearing that laugh an awful lot while she was at the Fort. Cass took Gawain's amused reply as her cue to leave and turned to resume her work. When she was half way across the tavern, a hand on her arm stopped her. Cass' head snapped around to its owner, her eyes wide. She relaxed when she saw who it was.

"Tristan," she said.

He said nothing for a long while, his hand still resting on her arm. Cass suddenly became extremely aware of the close proximity between her and the quiet Knight, and she fought hard against a blush that she knew would force its way to her cheeks anyway. Tristan saw her cheeks darken in colour and removed his hand, though didn't step back from beside Cass. The silence between them finally broke Cass down.

"Is there something I can do for you?" she asked quietly, looking into the man's unfathomable brown eyes.

After a pause, he nodded.

"An apple," Tristan said simply, before walking back to the Knights and sitting back again on a wooden stool beside Dagonet.

Cass took a moment, making sure that the red faded from her face. She looked around the tavern for Vanora, who she found over by a group of Roman soldiers.

Cass tapped Vanora on the shoulder and said, "Er, Vanora? Tristan wants-"

"Oh, an apple, yes. They're under the bar top, in a basket by some barrels."

Cass gave the woman a bewildered look, but bobbed her head anyway in acknowledgement.

"He has one every time he's here, and he's the only one that ever wants apples, so we keep them for him," Vanora answered, interpreting Cass' confusion.

"Oh, right," Cass said.

She let Vanora return to refilling Roman glasses and ducked under the bar. Cass found the apples like Vanora had said, in a basket beside a few barrels. Just as she chose an apple from the top of the pile and stood, Cass jumped slightly. Tristan seemed to have a knack for sneaking up on her. Cass started to laugh, one hand pressing against her chest as she took a few deep breaths. Tristan just stared at her, as if he wasn't sure how to respond to her reaction.

"Tristan. You startled me," she said, laughing nervously.

"I was just getting your apple," she added, holding the apple out to him.

He took the apple from her, and went to leave; but instead, he turned back to Cass and said, almost inaudibly, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Cass answered quietly as she watched him walk away, an uncertain smile still playing on her lips.

The rest of the night passed quickly, though almost all of the tavern's occupants seemed to become more rowdy. Cass had tried to avoid them as best she could, but that hadn't stopped a few intoxicated men slapping her backside a couple of times. Cass was just about to say something to one of them- who she felt was not only exceptionally rude, but was now making her extremely uncomfortable- when she saw a Knight approach her, one whose name she hadn't heard. The man was tall, almost a foot taller than some of the Knights. If the Roman who'd just slapped Cass had planned on trying anything more with her, he certainly thought twice at the sight of the Knight towering above him.

Dagonet gave the man a look that Cass was particularly thankful for. With a gesture, he indicated for Cass to move away from the Romans, which she did, a small smile on her face. She walked back over to the bar and placed the jug she had been carrying on the bar top. The Knight followed her.

"Thank you," Cass said, giving him a relieved glance.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" she added.

The Knight shook his head and held out his hand, simply saying, "I'm Dagonet."

Cass stared at his hand and wiped hers on a cloth, before shaking it. Her hand seemed almost tiny in his, glove-like, encompassing grip.

"Arthur asked me to take you to your room," he said.

"Oh," Cass said, surprised.

"Right then," she added, smiling.

Cass grabbed her bag and walked out from behind the bar. Dagonet nodded to her, and started from the tavern. As Cass bade goodbye to Vanora and to the Knights when she walked passed them, her bag slipped from her shoulder. She was about to bend down to pick it up when she noticed that a hand already held it out for her. It belonged to Lancelot.

"Thanks," Cass smiled politely, taking the bag from him.

"Don't I get a kiss?" Lancelot pouted, as she followed after Dagonet.

Over her shoulder, Cass replied, "You're only the sixth man to try that one tonight."

"Ah, but does that make me lucky number seven?"

As a blushing Cass caught up with Dagonet, she shouted back to him, "Perhaps you should try gambling instead!"

Dagonet chuckled beside her, as he continued walking away from the tavern.

"Considering you blush so easily, you can certainly hold your own around men. And Lancelot, he'll be feigning you've wounded him for days."

Cass smiled to the Knight leading her way. He was right. In one night, she seemed to have beaten most of her discomfort around men, but as of yet, had not conquered her blushing problem. Dagonet was clearly observant. A long silence was spent between them as they walked. Cass thought about it and realised that, before just then, she hadn't heard him say more than two words since she'd met him. Cass thought to try and make conversation with him.

"Dagonet?" Cass asked.

The Knight turned his head to her.

"How long have you, you know, been here? In Britain, I mean."

His face seemed to harden, but Cass wasn't quite sure why.

"Thirteen years," he answered.

_Thirteen years? So Arthur won't be King for another two years_, she thought, making another mental note.

"Wow..." Cass said, after a while.

"... You must miss home..." she added quietly.

He stared straight ahead before nodding once. Dagonet said nothing more for the remainder of the walk and Cass thought better of trying to push a conversation. They came to a building, and Dagonet held its door open for her. Once inside, Cass saw that leading off from this particular corridor, there were four doors; and Dagonet took Cass to the furthest door on the right.

"This is your room. If you need anything, my room is the one next to yours, Tristan's is the one we passed by the door and Lancelot's is the room opposite."

"Ah, so best not to go opposite when in search of a glass of water in the middle of the night- he might think I'm there for some other reason," she joked.

Dagonet smiled at her, then turned away from Cass and entered his own room. Cass stared at the door. She took a breath and pushed it open. The room was lit by a solitary candle on a table beside a simple bed. It was too dark for Cass to see what her room actually looked like and she felt so tired that she just threw her bag on the floor and flopped onto her bed. With nothing to change into, Cass lay on her bed, which was more comfortable than she'd thought it would be, in the dress Vanora and Bors had given her.

Then Cass sat up again, remembering that she was still wearing her boots. After slipping off her shoes, Cass blew out the candle and the room instantly fell dark. She let out a long, deep breath as she lay back again and stared into the darkness above her. _This is really happening_, she thought. _I've _really_ just met King Arthur and his Knights._

It took Cass only minutes to fall asleep, her body weary from a day she would never forget. And, though she wouldn't remember them, her dreams were filled with the faces of the people she'd met. One face that seemed to appear the most; was Tristan. The quiet, mysterious Knight who'd found her. The one who, when they met, had been prepared to kill her. The one who, when they met, had probably saved her life.


	7. Breakfast And A Plan

Cass' eyes opened to the sound of a short thumping, like a fist on wood. She sat up quickly, her legs twisted in the bottom of her dress and as she tried to untangle herself, the knock came again.

"Who is it?" Cass said, pushing a dishevelled curl back from in front of her face.

A deep voice came in reply, "Dagonet."

Cass swung her legs from the bed, her toes grazing the cool, wooden floor. As she pushed herself from the bed, Cass told Dagonet he could come in. The tall man opened the door slowly and smiled to Cass. She smiled in return, her eyes still bleary from having only just woken up.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," he said, as he saw her tousled appearance.

Cass followed his gaze and blushed at the state of her hair.

To save her from the unintended embarrassment he'd caused, Dagonet added, "I was about to get breakfast, I wondered if you'd care to join me."

"Oh," Cass replied.

"I'd love to," she added, noticing the emptiness in her stomach- she hadn't eaten since her last lunch at home, over a day ago.

"Would you mind if I just change though, before...?"

He nodded.

"I'll wait outside," Dagonet said, disappearing from the room.

Cass smiled to where he had just been, before trying to smooth her mess of hair, almost successfully calming the frizz it had become. She found her clothes inside her bag and picked up the blue dress. Letting the dress she was wearing fall to the floor in folds of crimson fabric, Cass quickly changed into the blue dress she had been given. She sighed when she noticed that this dress, with its low neckline, was also too tight around her chest. Cass picked up and folded the red dress and set it on her bed, before opening the door and almost bumping straight into Dagonet's back.

"Ready?" he asked.

Cass nodded to him. The pair started walking back towards the tavern; Cass only vaguely remembered some of the things that they had passed on their way there the previous night. She figured it would take her another couple of tries to remember her way completely to where she was staying.

"Sleep well?" Dagonet questioned, in an attempt to make up for his lack of conversation last night.

"Yes, I did, thank you," Cass replied.

"And you?"

He nodded, but couldn't think of anything else to say to the girl.

"This place seems so different in the day..." Cass said, wonderingly.

He looked at her, uncertain of what it was she had meant.

"The colours, I mean, they're much brighter..."

"Yes, I suppose," he replied after a while.

"It could just be the lack of drunken people wandering around though."

A small smile came to his lips. They reached the tavern soon after and Cass noticed how there seemed fewer people; she suspected that it was because most of the men she'd seen last night were soldiers and that they'd probably be off doing some sort of work. Most of the Knights were there though; all but Tristan and their commander, Arthur. By the table where the Knights were sat, Dagonet pulled up two seats and, after sitting in one, gestured for Cass to take the other. She sat down beside him, with a straight back, still feeling slightly uncomfortable around the Knights. Though they had nodded to her in greeting, Cass half-hoped that they would ignore her, so she could just watch them, the heroes from the stories she knew so well.

Her 'watching' plan failed almost as soon as Vanora had placed a plate of food in front of her, and Cass started to eat. She tried to take her time, not wanting to make herself sick, but her hunger finally beat out her will power and she ate quite quickly. It was a good job she wasn't a picky eater really, because she had no idea what she was eating.

Cass had actually focussed on her food, not wanting to look up and have an awkward moment of eye contact with one of the Knights that she knew was looking at her, whether directly or not. However, when she had finished she had no choice.

"So, Cassandra, right?" Gawain asked.

She nodded, adding, "Everyone calls me Cass."

"Cass then; so what is you do... at your," he paused.

"Home?"

She noticed how he had refrained from saying 'your time', for which she was grateful. Cass considered his question. What could she really say to them without changing anything? _Nothing about the modern world,_ she thought.

"Well... Erm... I'm an artist- not by profession, but it's what I spend most of time doing, drawing, painting and taking phot-" she stopped.

_NOTHING ABOUT THE MODERN WORLD, CASS! _she scolded herself. She coughed to disguise her faltering words.

"Sorry about that... Er, I work in a restaurant, though it's _a lot_ different here to where I worked at home."

She tried hard to think of anything else she could say, and considered the fact that, when it came down to it, she might actually be a very boring person.

"Oh, I also trained in fencing."

Seeing the quizzical look on a number of the Knights' faces, she cursed herself. _STUPID. Sword fighting, not fencing, that wasn't invented until the Eighteenth Century!_

"Sword fighting," she added, correcting her mistake.

Cass watched as Lancelot's eyebrows raised and he looked at her doubtfully. She couldn't blame him; no one she'd fought with in tournaments had taken her too seriously back at home, because of her size. They'd always regretted it.

"Really?" Gawain said, his tone signalling that it wasn't meant as a question.

"Well, why don't you come train with us?" he enquired.

Before she could answer, Lancelot interrupted, "Yes, I'm sure we'd all love to see what you're capable of."

"I'll bet you would," Cass replied, rolling her eyes.

"Well, if it's okay with Vanora. I think I'm supposed to be working-"

"Vanora!" Bors' voice shouted, before she could even finish her sentence.

Vanora appeared within moments, heading straight to her lover's side. They met with a kiss, much like the one they had shared when Cass had first seen them together. Cass had a feeling that all of their kisses were as passionate as that.

"Vanora, my sweet, my beauty, my flower!"

She interpreted where his sentence was headed, and asked, "What is it you want, Bors?"

"He wants to know if we can borrow Cass here, for a few hours?" Galahad cut in.

Vanora sighed, before saying, "Only if you bring her back in the same state she's in now."

"No promises," Lancelot said with a wink.

Vanora shot him a disapproving look before resuming her work. Cass shrugged to the Knights.

"Apparently I've got time," she muttered quietly.

"Excellent," Gawain said, one corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.

"We train up on the hill outside the Fort, meet us there in about an hour."

The Knights seemed to all stand up simultaneously, leaving Cass, alone, in her seat.

Before leaving, Dagonet leant down to her and said, "You might want to change into something other than a dress."

He was gone before Cass could even mention that she had nothing that wasn't a dress to change in to. She sighed, pondering on her new situation; eventually thinking to ask Vanora if she knew where Cass could get any trousers.

Vanora, in an ever-motherly fashion, answered, "I'll take in some men's clothes so they'll fit you."

Cass smiled and said, "Thanks Vanora."

As Vanora wandered off to serve a couple of Romans that had just walked towards the tavern and sat down noisily around a table, Cass exhaled. She'd have to wear the clothes she'd come here in, and just risk being seen in them by the Romans.

Cass left the tavern, and turned, trying her best to remember her way back to her room. Things that she'd seen that morning helped; a pot filled with pretty blue flowers, an open window with a light fabric curtain fluttering in the wind. She innerly rejoiced when she saw the outside of the building that housed her room.

On entering the building, Cass stopped almost immediately. The man in front of Cass gazed at her through strands of dark hair that had fallen across his face. Tristan had just arrived back from a morning of scouting, and paused when he saw the small girl with black curls, in the light-blue dress before him.

After a moment, Tristan nodded to her politely, but reservedly. Cass gave a small smile in return as she walked by. She couldn't be sure, but she'd swear his eyes were on her until she reached her door and quickly went inside, not daring to look up, even to confirm her thoughts.

Cass leant against the back of her door, relieved that Tristan hadn't seen the blush that had crept onto her cheeks as she had walked by. Sliding down the door until she sat, Cass sighed. She'd never been stared at so much in her life; back at home she was always the one everyone ignored. Here, everyone seemed to be looking at her. And she wasn't sure that that was a good thing.


	8. Expecting Insurmountable Embarrassment

The heavy gates were once again heaved open for Cass; though she had been doubtful for a moment if the Romans would let her through. She'd been given some strange looks as she waited to be allowed out of the Fort, and felt even more self-conscious than before. Bors' words had echoed in her mind as she chewed on her bottom lip nervously;_You can't go around wearing those. Unless you want to be killed by Romans._

Cass walked out of the Fort quite quickly, so that she might at least be away from the big Roman guards with their swords and spears. She heard the gates thud back into their resting place behind her and looked at the grassy field to her left; the one that led to the forest she'd woken up in. Cass shuddered and turned, scanning the tree line all the way from her left to her right, where she noticed the hill on which she was supposed to meet the Knights.

It wasn't too far away and seemed, to Cass, more of a grassy verge than a hill. She could already see figures atop it and started trudging towards the hill, careful not to step in any puddles of upturned mud. She did only have one pair of boots.

As Cass neared the mound, she observed the Knights. Stopping slightly before where the Knights were training, she just watched them in awe. Cass found that it would have been quite impossible not to stop and watch them. Their skills were legendary, in both their time and hers. She knew that, but she hadn't quite expected them to be so entrancing to watch.

"It's like they're dancing," Cass whispered, wondering aloud at the action before her that had her spellbound.

Her voice alerted one of the Knights to her presence. Tristan turned his head to look at her from the tree he was leaning against. He gestured to Lancelot, who was sat beside him, reclining on the soft grass. At the sight of Cass, Lancelot called over to her.

"Cass! How very good of you to join us. Why don't you come and take a seat next to me for awhile?" he said suggestively.

Cass rolled her eyes at him, but went over and sat next to him anyway. She crossed her legs in an attempt to get more comfortable whilst sitting on the grass-softened, yet still rigid, floor. Promptly ignoring any further attempt Lancelot had at 'wooing' her, or revelling in the success of getting her to sit next to him; Cass resumed watching the Knights.

She noticed how they all had their own style, a specific weapon that they favoured over others. Most of all though, Cass noticed that she was well and truly out of her league. _Why did I_ voluntarily _agree to train with the Knights?_ She exhaled slowly; now hoping that she would go unnoticed, that the Knight's would forget about her- that she would not have to suffer the insurmountable embarrassment that would come from her attempt at training with these great warriors.

A tap on her shoulder told Cass that she was out of luck. She turned and saw Lancelot looking at her.

"Let's fight," he said nonchalantly.

"Er..." Cass blinked.

"Er, no... I'm okay just watching... I mean..."

Cass ran out of things to say and Lancelot smirked.

"But surely that's why you're here, isn't it? To train with us?"

Cass said nothing; she just kept trying to come up with an acceptable excuse. She felt like her brain was grasping for straws and coming up empty handed.

"Come on... I promise I'll go easy on you," Lancelot added with a wink, as he got to his feet and held out a hand for Cass.

O_h shit_, she thought angrily. Cass took the hand held out for her and was immediately pulled to her feet. As Lancelot started to walk away, Cass had an epiphany, a thought that meant she wouldn't have to fail to epic proportions when fighting Lancelot.

"Er, Lancelot, I just thought, I can't fight."

He looked at her blankly.

"I've got nothing to fight _with_."

Lancelot smiled at her and said, "You're not getting out of it that easily! We brought you a spare sword."

Lancelot looked to Tristan, who swiftly threw a sheathed sword to him. _Bollocks_, she thought, her last excuse gone. She was just going to have to fight him and get it over with. Lancelot passed her the spare sword. It was heavier than those she was used to, because, as a fencer, the heaviest sword she was used to a sabre. Cass sighed, trying to accustom herself to the weight of the blade. _This is going to be clumsy_, she thought, before taking position in front of Lancelot.

He grinned, letting out a small chucle, and said, "Ready?"

Cass noticed that all other sounds had gone quiet. That meant that the other Knights had stopped what they were doing to watch her and Lancelot fight. She wanted to go over to where Tristan was, and bang her head repeatedly into the tree. _Everyone just _has_ to watch, don't they? Like I'm not nervous enough!_

Cass took one last deep breath, and nodded to Lancelot. His first blow was quick; and hard. She blocked his blade with her own, but the force that he had applied knocked Cass back a few steps. She frowned as he did not attack again; he seemed to be waiting for her permission. _Pause. Consider his strength. Consider yours. Apply appropriate force._ Cass nodded to him again. On Lancelot's next strike, Cass blocked the blade, this time standing her ground. She fought back a smile as she saw surprise written across Lancelot's face for a brief moment, before he quickly masked it behind his usual smirk.

It was unsurprising that the other Knights had stopped to watch the fight between their Brother and their new acquaintance. The fight was becoming quite interesting. Dagonet smiled to himself as he remembered his word's the previous night, _you can certainly hold your own around men._ She certainly could. Minutes later, there was still no choosing who would win the fight- until Lancelot turned, leg pushed out, and knocked Cass' feet from under her.

Cass looked up from the floor; her first thought being, _OW,_ her second being, _where did my sword just go?_ and her third thought being,_ Aw crap, I'd have just died right now if this was a real fight._ She heard a laugh from Lancelot and saw his hand held out to help her to her feet for the second time that day.

"You're good," Lancelot said, once Cass was standing again.

"You might want to watch for moves like that though."

"Oh yes, and here I was thinking that we were fighting fair," she murmured, her voice riddled with a slight annoyance.

"Fighting fair's not real fighting. You try to fight fair- you'll end up dead."

Cass turned her head to the grim laughter that had begun following his words. She blinked. She'd forgotten that the Knights had been watching them. _Well, at least you managed to hold onto the sword- for the most part_, she thought, relieved that her embarrassment was not to as high an extent as she had thought it would be. Cass still couldn't stop herself from blushing though.

"Come; let's go back to the tavern. I'm hungry," Galahad said, picking up Cass' fallen sword and sheathing it.

"You're only hungry because you didn't eat this morning. Didn't I tell you you'd be hungry later? Honestly!" Gawain said, feigning exasperation.

Galahad glared at his friend in mock anger, before walking off back to the Fort. Cass suspected that the Knights must tease each other like this all the time, it seemed a second nature to them. Most of the Knights, and Cass, decided to join Galahad at the tavern, with only one exception. Tristan stayed, leaning against his tree, as he watched the others leave. When they were gone, he looked up to the sky, and waited for his friend, his Hawk.


	9. A Charcoal Graveyard

The following day began a routine for Cass. Eating with the Knights, working in the tavern with Vanora and training with the Knights- not necessarily in that order. Training with the Knights was always the highlight of Cass' day, just as fencing had been back at home.

She had woken up again, ready to begin her third day in the Fort, but quickly found herself sitting in her room, leaning into the back of the wooden chair in her room. She stared around her room and the few objects inside it. Everything here was so simple. The bed was untidy; she had hastily made it as she got out of bed that morning, its dark cover wrinkled in places. The sword Lancelot had given her lay on the table beside the candle that's flickering light welcomed her into the room. Everything here was so simple. And she liked it that way.

The contrast reminded Cass of her bedroom at home. So much mess. Art supplies everywhere, books stacked to the ceiling. Cass let out a long sigh, her thoughts drifting to the inevitable, questioning if she would ever get home. After a minute, one thought was prevalent. _Do I really want to go home?_ She'd always dreamed of living in a time like this, among people who had honour and real ideals that actually mattered. She had always felt out of place in the 21st Century; no one cared enough about anything there. The Knights' welcome of such a stranger as herself, had immediately told her it was not so here.

Cass' thoughts turned to the sword on the table. She had already improved since training with the Knights, being careful to watch for any dirty tricks they might try and pull, like when Lancelot had knocked her from her feet during their first fight. Though even though she tried her best to look out for their tricks, she found she spent quite a lot of her time on the ground when training. They always made it challenging for her. Cass chewed on her lip as she stared into space, until her stomach protested with a loud groan, prompting her to go for breakfast.

The corridor was empty when she entered, allowing her, for the first time, to notice the high ceiling and reddish, carpeted floor that led a pathway through it. Her way to the tavern was now memorised. Certain signifiers had been the key, like the building beside the wall with large, curved archway windows. Cass wondered whose house it was. She shrugged off her curiosity. _Probably some rich, important Roman,_ she thought. She found buildings she passed had distinctively Roman flares, pillars and such, but some were wooden, less Roman and more intriguing than the artificial beauty that the Romans had tried to create.

At the tavern she observed the Knights, seated around their usual table. Arthur had even joined them this time. None of the group had seen her yet, so Cass leant against a wooden support pillar at the opposite end of the tavern and took the opportunity to watch them. Galahad and Gawain were sat next to each other, as usual; Cass had easily picked up on the close, brother-like relationship they shared. Dagonet and Bors were almost the same, though they did perhaps seem opposite to most people- the loud man and the quiet.

Lancelot and Arthur were deep in conversation, smiles on the faces of both men. Cass smiled too; Arthur really was how the legends made him out to be. It was easy to see he was all for equality when he was amongst his men- they were more like his friends than his soldiers. Cass looked to the corner where Tristan usually sat, only to find it empty. She blinked; she was certain he was there a second ago.

"Are you joining us?" a voice asked from behind Cass.

The sudden noise made Cass jump, her head swinging back and slamming into the wooden post behind her. Cass' head started to throb almost immediately.

"Ouch," Cass whispered, looking up to find that it was Tristan who'd startled her.

"You've got to stop doing that," she added, shaking her head to him.

"Sorry. How's your head?" he said simply.

"Sore. I'll get over it anyway. In answer to your question, yes, I would like to join you."

He nodded and waited for her to move to the table. When she did, she was greeted with smiles and nods from the men who had taken her in without even knowing her. She sat in her usual seat, between Gawain and Dagonet, inwardly smiling at her good fortune to have met these great men.

"Arthur! Arthur, listen to this," Bors loud voice bellowed.

Arthur turned to listen.

"That girl," he continued with a laugh.

"Fights better than most of the Romans here!"

Cass' cheeks turned rouge and she stared at Bors. _Is he making fun of me? I'm not that good... He must be..._ she thought.

"Even if she is smaller than some of my kids."

"Hey!" she replied, in a joking manner.

"I'm not that short!"

"How old are you anyway, Midget?" Gawain asked, chipping in to tease her further.

Cass' blush deepened as she smiled and said, quite louder than she'd meant to, "I'm not that short! Besides, I'll be eighteen in twelve days."

"She's a bit too young for you then, eh, Lancelot? I'd give up now if I were you," Gawain said with a raised eyebrow.

Cass answered with a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head, while Lancelot put on a hurt expression, spoiled only by the smirk that crept back into his face. After eating, the Knights left; however, Cass decided to join them a while later for training. She wanted to speak to Vanora first. Locating her was the easy part; business was slow this morning so Vanora was sat behind the bar, a clay jug beside her.

"Hi Vanora," Cass said as she neared the red-headed woman.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Vanora answered, smiling to the girl in front of her.

"Do you know where I can get any paper?"

The woman blinked. It was clearly not the question she had thought Cass was going to ask. She answered anyway by directing Cass towards the market. It didn't take long to purchase what she wanted, with the money she'd earned in the tavern. Her next task was to find something to draw with, though luckily, she knew she could get some charcoal pretty easily amongst the coal of the fires.

The petite girl gathered her things, paper and charcoal- all she'd need to be able to work. She decided to go for a walk, searching for something to draw. The landscape around her was so picturesque, so beautiful, particularly outside of the Fort. Walking through the grassy field, Cass found herself on a hill full of mounds. Bright colours, burning flames and swords protruding from the mounds dotted the scene in front of her. It was nothing like she had seen before. A graveyard. But a graveyard nothing like the dark, depressing ones back at home.

Cass sat down on the grass, crossing her legs, and began to draw. She _had_ to draw this place. There was something so special about it; it had an essence to it- an air of wonder. But it also had an edge to it, an edge of darkness alluding to the death surrounding the setting. It took her hours to complete her picture, but she felt it was worth it. She stood; her legs slightly numb from sitting still for so long. Cass jumped back, once more finding the quiet Knight behind her.

"How do you keep doing that?" Cass exclaimed; not in annoyance, but in confusion.

He shrugged; the twinkle in his eyes unwilling to give up his secret.

They stood in silence for a moment until Tristan said, "It's very good."

"Hm?"

He gestured to her picture and Cass blushed. She thanked him, her lips turning upwards into a smile at the compliment. Tristan looked behind her, staring at the graves and, as they stood together, an awkwardness came between them. Cass felt as if she was interrupting something between him and the landscape, the graves, so she excused herself, heading back to the tavern to see Vanora.

Cass turned her head back to look at Tristan, who was still in the same place, his cloak rippling in the wind as he stared into the graveyard of his fallen comrades.

**Author's Note: Here's a special update for you guys, from me to you on my 18th Birthday! xx**


	10. A Proposal

Cass groaned when she noticed the state of her dress; the hem was caked in light-coloured, splattered mud, most noticeable against the black material. She cursed herself for not watching where she stepped more carefully. She had been too wrapped up in thinking about her brief meeting with Tristan at the graveyard though. He had seemed different somehow. It was like there was something between him and the landscape; Cass had noticed it as she left him. It took her a while to remember that the graveyard was probably full of other Knights, men that Tristan had fought beside. Cass felt slightly bad that she hadn't thought of it before.

The gates opened, allowing her to return to the Fort. The Romans at the gate seemed to recognise her now- or at least remember that she was with the Knights and therefore wasn't a threat. As Cass trudged back into the Fort, ready to put her make-shift art supplies and finished picture in her room, she stopped.

Cass had noticed she was being watched. It wasn't the normal type of watching either, where people casually glance as they pass by, it was a kind making her feel very uncomfortable. She had felt eyes on her for a while, and a quick, casual glance behind her told her that a man's eyes were set on her. He was a Roman; a soldier, but he looked at Cass with an expression that unnerved her. He actually reminded Cass of the type of man she saw in a 'Stranger Danger' advert when she was younger; _packed to the brim with creepiness_, she thought.

Cass' cheeks were red, and she wondered what to do. She stared at the dusty floor at her feet, bending to pretend she was checking her boots. She didn't want someone like that man knowing where she was staying, and from where he sat, perched on the stone step of a Roman household, his eyes could follow her almost exactly into the building she was staying in. _No; don't go to your room,_ Cass thought. _Go to the tavern instead, at least Vanora's there._

Her mind made up, Cass stood again, brushing down her dress with the hand that didn't hold her art supplies. She set off towards the tavern, satisfied that it was far enough from the Roman's gaze. Cass picked up pace, trying to turn the nearest corner so that she might be free of his glare sooner.

She spotted a wooden building that didn't look entirely stable, and seemed to lean slightly to the side. Unsure of who it belonged to, Cass assumed it was definitely not a Roman, supposing that a Roman probably wouldn't live inside a building such as that. Cass turned, rounding the corner beside the leaning building, ready to take a sigh of relief. She didn't get a chance.

As soon as she was round the corner she collided right into a body in front of her. Cass stumbled backwards but a hand caught her, refusing to let her fall. She looked up, through the dark ringlets that hung before her eyes and relaxed when she saw who she'd bumped in to.

"Galahad!" Cass exclaimed.

The young man smiled to her, releasing her arm when he was satisfied that she wouldn't fall.

"What's got you in such a hurry?" he said, raising his eyebrows as he noticed the blush that still disturbed the colour of her cheeks.

Cass blushed more. What could she tell him? _Oh nothing, Galahad, I was just trying to get away from this guy that I think looks like a pervert, who was really creeping me out by staring at me..._

"Oh nothing."

Noting the disbelief in his expression, Cass added, "I just fancied a drink; thought I'd go say hello to Vanora, see if she needed any help, you know?"

He accepted her answer this time as a more reasonable excuse- or a less pathetic one than _"Oh nothing"._

"That's where I'm headed now, would you allow me to escort you?"

A small smile made its way onto Cass' face and she nodded. _Escort you,_ Cass mused, she'd never heard anyone actually say thatapart from in films or books. As they walked together, Galahad took it upon himself to strike up a conversation.

"So what's that?" he asked, pointing at Cass' things.

"Paper; charcoal," Cass answered, jokingly stating the obvious.

"I know _that_," the Knight said, smiling.

"What are you doing with it, is what I meant."

"I went out to draw," Cass replied simply.

Galahad's eyebrows rose once more.

"Can I see?"

Cass held her things more tightly to her chest, in a protective gesture.

"Nope."

"Why not?" Galahad asked, a genuine curiosity in his voice.

After a pause, Cass answered him, "I don't usually like people seeing the things I draw, not the people I know anyway."

"But surely those you know, don't their opinions matter more?" Glahad wondered, trying to determine her logic.

"That's exactly it."

Galahad decided to drop the subject; she clearly didn't want to show him. At the tavern, the pair saw Gawain, looking rather lonely, sat at the table on his own in the crowded inn. Galahad waved at his friend, his would-be brother, who greeted both Galahad and Cass with a grin. Just before Cass could even think about sitting down, Vanora had made her way over to them.

"Oh, Cass, good. It's really busy in here, would you mind-?"

"Sure," Cass replied with a smile.

She placed her drawing, the paper and her charcoal on the table, face down, and followed after Vanora. Within seconds Galahad's curiosity overcame him, and he reached out for Cass' picture. The two men looked at Cass' picture, a mixture of emotion crossing their faces. The graveyard embodied death to them; a pang of pain hit them for the Knights no longer living. But Cass had captured the graveyard's beauty. The flare, the textures, the way the sun glinted from the swords of the fallen warriors even though the drawing was only black and white.

Cass looked up from where she had been pouring drinks for a kind-looking, middle-aged couple and saw the Knights. As soon as she spotted the two men looking at her picture, she half-ran to them and tried to wrench it from their grasp. Gawain quickly removed it from her reach though, standing and holding it above his head. A smirk hit his face as the small girl tried to reach her picture. Cass frowned at them.

"Galahad, I thought I told you I didn't want anyone to see," she said sternly.

"But why?" Gawain asked, confusion creasing his brow.

"Well-"

Clearly trying to calm any rage that Cass might feel towards them for going against her wishes, Galahad interrupted her, "You're amazing!"

Cass blushed, feeling the heat on her cheeks. _You're really going to have to stop blushing, it's just embarrassing now_, she thought to herself.

"Thanks... But really, you shouldn't have looked. It's-"

Before Cass could continue, Gawain asked, "Can you draw people that well?"

Cass blinked. He was just trying to change the subject, so she frowned at him again. She was actually better at drawing people than landscapes; she found them even more interesting and intriguing, and always worked hard to depict their emotion, the thoughts behind their expression. Cass gave a small nod to the Knight.

"Well, how about you draw us, all the Knights I mean," Gawain suggested, no hint of a joke in his voice.

_Draw the Knights? _It was a chance she'd kill for. _I'd never be able to do them justice though..._

Her self-conscious nature took over and she replied, "I- I don't know... I-"

"Alright, how about a deal?"

Confused, Cass waited for Gawain to continue.

"Well, if you draw us, we'll teach you how to fight. Properly, I mean. Not just with a sword either."

Cass considered his proposal for a second, though a second was all she would need to come to a decision. Being taught to fight by the Knights of the Round Table, not just the practice fights they had been having every day? There was no question.

"You've got a deal," Cass answered.

Her reply brought grins back to the faces of both men and a satisfied Gawain handed Cass her picture back.


	11. The Axe, The Dagger Or The Shoe

Dull grey. The sky above was a dull grey; completely overcast. Cass was worried it might rain and her brow creased as she waited. Cass had taken a seat in the grass on the hill where the Knights trained; wearing a tunic and trousers that Vanora had altered for her. She surveyed the swaying grass before her that ran in waves like the sea until it met the Fort. Not a person was in sight as Cass absentmindedly picked at blades of the fresh, green grass.

She recalled the conversation she'd had with the Knights the previous evening. Gawain had revealed their deal to the other Knights and Arthur, and to Cass' astonishment; it had been met with a positive response. She remembered how Bors had slapped her on the back making her spill some of the contents of the jug she was holding. Lancelot had laughed, joking that Cass would be hard pressed to choose his good side. She smiled.

"Morning," a voice said, snapping Cass from her memories.

Cass looked up, blinking her eyes from having stared into space for so long. She saw Gawain walking up the hill towards her, shouldering his own weapons; but also carrying a few others- an axe and some daggers. Cass swallowed. _So _that's _what Gawain's going to teach me... _she thought.

When he reached the top of the hill, Gawain set down the daggers; leaving them at the base of what Cass had nicknamed, _Tristan's Tree_, because he sat there every training session Cass had joined the Knights on. This was different though. This was one-on-one training between just her and Gawain. Real, concentrated learning.

"Right..." Gawain said.

"Training first?"

Cass nodded eagerly, standing up beside him and putting her art supplies at the base of _Tristan's Tree_.

"Alright then. You take this," Gawain added, holding the spare axe, handle first, to Cass.

She grasped hold of it. When he let go, she realised the weight of the axe was not as much as she had originally thought it would be. Her hands held tight around the handle of the axe. She found it an odd feeling. An axe. A modern girl and an axe. She smiled to herself, thinking about how some of the people she knew back in the 21st Century would think she was crazy for trying this.

Gawain first taught her how to hold the axe properly, showing her the best way to grip it so she had more control over it. It wasn't too hard for Cass to get the hang of swinging the axe, having built up her strength when fencing. Basic moves were picked up easily by Cass, and Gawain nodded to her, impressed by her quick progress.

"You're a natural," he said, holding out his hand for her axe.

She smiled in thanks and handed him the axe.

"We'll see how you do with daggers now then," Gawain added, as he swapped the axes for the daggers on the floor.

Cass chewed on her bottom lip. She was fine with any sort of weapon that she could hold on to, but when it came to any type of projectile... Anything, Cass was more likely to stab herself than anything she was aiming at. After explaining how Cass should hold the daggers, Gawain tried to get her to throw one at a tree.

"Er Gawain... I'm not really sure if that's a good idea- me throwing things, I mean."

Gawain raised his eyebrows at her.

"No, really. The last time I threw something for anyone to catch I hit them in the face."

Gawain started to laugh at her.

"Oh, don't laugh! I'm serious!"

Gawain tried to stop himself laughing, trying to disguise it as a cough. Cass folded her arms, and glared at him, only succeeding in sending Gawain back into a fit of laughter; so Cass just waited for him to stop laughing, thoroughly unimpressed.

"Alright, alright," Gawain said finally, taking a breath.

"Go on, I'll just make sure I'm always behind you when you're throwing things," he added with a wink.

Cass sighed and rolled her eyes at him, replying, "I wouldn't joke about that, you're probably right."

Gawain shrugged, and pointed out the tree he wanted Cass to aim at. It wasn't too far away, and it shouldn't be all that difficult to hit; but Cass did take note of how Gawain _had_ taken her advice and stayed well behind her. _Har, har, _she thought, _very funny._

She stared at the tree. It had clearly been used before by the Knights to practice throwing daggers at; its normal, uneven bark was marred with cuts of ripped and broken bark. She grasped the dagger in her hand, feeling the sweat on her palms. _This is_ not _going to go well_, she thought as she took aim. The dagger was released; and it didn't meet its mark. In fact, it flew off to the left and landed in a hedge with a rustle and a thud. Cass sighed as she heard the hysterical laughter that began from behind her and turned to see Gawain clutching his chest as he fell about laughing at her.

"Hey! I told you I was going to be awful, there's no need to laugh!" Cass pouted, but soon found her giggles joining his contagious laugh.

Gawain wiped a tear from his eye and, when he had calmed his laughter enough to speak, he said, "Well, you were right."

He began chuckling again, as he added, "You just need some practice."

It took an hour of solid practice for Cass to even hit the tree, and that, she thought, was due more to luck than any type of skill.

"It's a good job I don't actually need to use these, you know. I'm thinking if I ever do get into a fight I'd be better off with something else; perhaps a shoe."

Gawain chuckled, and asked, "A shoe?"

"Well, it'd probably be more use than me with one of these," Cass answered, holding up one of the daggers.

He laughed at her and took the dagger she held out, suggesting, "Maybe we should take a rest."

Cass nodded; _anything so that I don't have to be such a failure anymore_, she thought.

"Good idea. I think now would be a good time to draw you; if you still want me to, that is," Cass said, looking at the Knight.

He smiled and nodded to her. Cass gestured for him to sit beside _Tristan's Tree_, where she joined him, picking up her art supplies. She looked at Gawain for a while, as if she was trying to figure out how best to draw him. Finally she smiled and picked up a piece of charcoal, making her first marks on the blank paper.

"Thank you for today, even though I failed to a ridiculous extent with the daggers," Cass said after a while, still concentrating on the picture.

"Thank you for deciding to draw us," he said in reply.

Cass looked up at the Knight's face, trying to figure out the emotion in his features.

"Why is it that you wanted to be drawn?" Cass asked slowly.

"I mean, I just didn't think of you all as the type to, you know, want that sort of thing."

Gawain raised his eyebrows into a pondering expression.

Finally, he answered, his voice low, "When we came to this land, there were many more of us. It's... hard to remember them now."

He paused.

"We are all that's left. I've known Arthur and the Knights for such a long time... I don't want to forget their faces; don't want them to forget mine."

Cass put her charcoal down for a moment. Gawain seemed so sad; she didn't think she'd ever seen him like that. She tried to think of something to say in response to this revelation, but she couldn't find the right words and simply nodded and resumed her drawing. The mood lightened with the weather, as sun had started to break through the clouds. And after another hour spent in companionable silence, Cass spoke again.

"You're very patient."

"It's either that or my legs are just numb and I can't get away," he answered with a smile.

"I'm nearly done," Cass added, realising that he must be bored of just sitting around doing nothing.

"Well, thank goodness for that!" he exclaimed, jokingly.

Minutes later, Cass had finished Gawain's picture and she packed away her art things. As Gawain and Cass started to walk back to Fort, Cass held the picture close to her chest.

Whilst they were waiting for the gates to be heaved open for them, Gawain asked, "Can I see?"

Cass looked at him, casually replying, "Nope."

_Didn't I have this conversation with Galahad yesterday? _she thought, as the pair strolled into the Fort.

"Why not?" he complained, throwing his arms up into the air.

"I'll show you when I've done them all," Cass said.

"That's hardly fair!" Gawain replied, trying to grab the picture from out of Cass' arms.

Cass ducked and moved away from him, a smile on her face.

"Not a chance, Gawain!" she grinned, running towards her room so she could find a suitable hiding place for the picture.


	12. Getting Very Little Sleep

When Cass' eyes opened, it was still dark. Only a tinge of sun-tinted light made it into her room. Cass closed her eyes again with a loud groan. _Why am I up so early? _She thought to herself in the blackness. It didn't take her long to figure out that a return to sleep was a virtual impossibility. She sighed as she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and supposing that it would be better if she went for a walk.

Cass slowly changed into her red dress and slipped on her boots. They were as cold as the morning air she was bracing herself to face momentarily. Cass shivered. She decided that it would be better to leave sooner and get used to the cold, than later and have her feet just freeze now for no reason.

She slowly opened the door, extremely aware, as she tiptoed out, that the Knights in the surrounding rooms would be sleeping. The darkness permeating the air in the corridor blocked out any light Cass had seen in her room. The only thing Cass _could_ see was the slight outline of a half-light rimming the door to the outside. She wandered in the dark, towards the half-light of the door; just willing herself not to walk into anything- like the wall.

Cass just wasn't that lucky though, because as she neared the door, her face made contact with something solid in the shadows. She heard a grunt. _A grunt? What wall grunts?_ she thought, confused in her only recently woken state.

"Hello?" Cass asked, feeling almost silly as she spoke to someone who may or may not have been there.

"You're up early," a voice came in reply.

Cass blinked. Tristan's deep, accented voice was instantly recognisable.

"So are you," Cass noted, unable to think of anything else to say.

Cass squinted as the door she had been walking towards opened slightly to her left. She saw the silhouette of the Knight holding it open for her and passed quickly through.

"Thank you," Cass said as she emerged into the open.

She turned back to the Knight in time to see him nod to her in response. They stood outside together for a moment before Cass spoke.

"So erm, why are you up so early?"

He looked at her for a while through the usual veil-like strands of dark hair in front of his face.

"Scouting," Tristan said simply, tilting his head to the side.

"Oh," Cass replied.

After another moment, the silence began to act as a cave between them, Tristan asked, "And you?"

"I couldn't sleep... Thought I'd go for a walk."

Tristan nodded.

Cass added, "I suppose I should let you get to that then..."

He looked as if he was going to say something, but decided against it. He started to walk away but something stopped him, as if he remembered his words from a second ago. His voice was so quiet; Cass was unable to make out his next words before he began walking again.

"Be careful."

Cass watched the Knight walk away until he had disappeared, hidden amongst the shadows of the buildings and the Wall itself. Her thoughts wrapped around the image of him, and the last look over his shoulder as he submerged into darkness. Tristan confused her. She wasn't really sure what to make of the man of so little words.

Her thoughts shifted back to the present, as she shivered. After rubbing her arms, she realised that it wasn't really warming her up very much. _Ah, screw it. I'm going back inside_, she thought, turning on her heel and re-entering her room. Cass didn't sleep again; she just lie down on her bed, staring at the ceiling as the light flooding her room became stronger.

A few hours later, Cass heard a loud noise from outside of her room. She quickly launched herself from her bed and flung her door open; her curiosity far too strong for her to ignore the noise. Cass couldn't stop herself from laughing as soon as she saw the two men; Dagonet, with his crooked smile, and Lancelot, rubbing his forehead. When they heard her laughter, the Knights turned to her.

"What happened?" Cass asked, through her giggles.

Lancelot waved a hand at her dismissively, slammed his door behind him and walked out of the building. Cass looked questioningly to Dagonet, who simply smiled at her and gestured for her to follow him. On the way outside, Dagonet explained.

"Arthur called a meeting so I knocked on his door to wake him up and when he didn't answer, I went in. Only he was on his way out, and I hit him with the door."

Cass started to laugh again at the image playing in her mind. Dagonet stopped about half way to the tavern and bade Cass goodbye. Cass was confused.

"Where are you...?" she started to ask, before feeling too nosey to continue.

"Arthur called a meeting," he repeated.

Cass nodded; remembering that he'd already told her that. She smiled at him as he left, and continued on to the tavern alone. Vanora was waiting at the tavern with a few of her children; Five, Six and Ten, if Cass had remembered correctly.

"Morning Vanora," Cass said, smiling at the woman.

"Hi Cass. Do me a favour, take Four over there and get her a drink of water?"

Cass smiled and said, "Sure."

_ Four; not Five,_ Cass thought, trying to memorize the girl's small face. She took Four over the bar and poured her a glass of water. The girl sat beside the bar slurping the water noisily and Cass watched Four's mother with the other children. Vanora was a good mother; she just had that motherly vibe.

Soon, Bors had arrived at the tavern, greeting his lover in their usual way. They started talking, though both Vanora and Bors looked serious. They spoke too quietly for Cass to overhear. Four half-dropped her glass onto the bar top and ran to her father. The children around the couple stopped Cass from hearing anything they were saying. _Just ask Vanora later..._ she thought to herself, and then added, _Stop being so nosey. _Bors departed and Vanora sat down with a frown on her face. Cass thought she had better go and see what was wrong.

"Vanora?"

The woman looked up, and Cass continued, "What's wrong?"

Vanora shrugged, the frown not leaving her face.

"There's a village that's been attacked; the Knights have to go to help."

"Oh..." Cass replied.

"Are you alright?"

Cass asked the older woman, but didn't know what to think herself. Of course the Knights needed to go on missions- it was their job. But Cass didn't want them to go. They'd become like a sort of adopted family to her since she'd arrived to this time and place. The thought of any of the Knights' lives being in danger, no matter how good at fighting they were, terrified Cass.

"I'll be fine. I've come to realise that it's just part of being with one of the Knights," Vanora said, trying to smile through her displeasure.

"Come, we'll see them off," Vanora added, taking Cass' arm and pulling her off to the Wall.

Cass hadn't been to the top of the Wall since she came to the Fort. She wasn't sure she liked it up there either. Cass had always been afraid of heights, and atop a tall wall with no railings, she was not feeling happy. Though getting queasier as she neared the Wall's edge, Cass went to stand beside Vanora to watch Arthur and his Knights ride off. She noticed how they rode in pairs; Arthur and Lancelot, Galahad and Gawain, Bors and Dagonet. Only Tristan rode alone, in front of the others. _Probably because of his position as the scout_, she thought.

They were gone almost as soon as they had appeared; riding hard and fast to face an enemy unknown to Cass. She still couldn't help but feel worried. The woozy feeling in the pit of her stomach, which was perhaps partly caused by her fear of heights, encouraged her thoughts to dwell on the dread that one of the Knights may only return to join their comrades in the graveyard.

That night in the tavern, no one sat at the Knights' table. The lack of people- friends- in the corner table made the tavern feel empty, Cass felt, though it was actually quite busy. Cass thought it best to try and take her mind off of her worry for the Knights and grabbed a jug full of some alcoholic beverage she was unsure of. Cass wandered around the tavern, serving people when they called for her, until she reached a man she recognised.

When he saw her, the man instantly grinned. It wasn't a pleasant grin though; Cass thought it was rather creepy. She half expected him to offer her a couple of sweets and tell her to get in his car... She smiled a polite, tight smile back to the man who had watched her so intently a couple of days ago.

"Hello darlin'!" he yelled, his loud voice slurred from the drink.

"How about you come over here and sit down on my knee, eh?"

Cass shook her head and brushed off his words, feeling extremely uncomfortable. Her blush had returned to her face, more from feeling uncomfortable than embarrassed. _Just stay away from him_, her mind's voice screamed at her. It wasn't long before she had to go back over to him though, as Vanora was too busy. She would just have to be brave; even if the Roman did look like some perverted paedophilic character.

"Anything I can get you?" Cass asked, her voice strained as she stood before the creepiest man she had ever met.

She got no verbal reply, however; his response was to grab hold of her neck in an attempt to pull her into a kiss. His lips never made contact with hers. Her fist made contact with his face though. As the Roman slipped from him seat by the force of her punch, Cass straightened herself and took a few deep breaths. It was Vanora that saved Cass from the wrath of the creepy Roman's friends.

"OUT! Go on! You've had enough to drink, now LEAVE," Vanora's voice screeched, her finger pointing away from the tavern.

Reluctantly, the Romans dispersed; leaving Cass still standing in the same place, her breathing heavy. Vanora led her over to the bar.

"Cass? Cass, are you alright?" Vanora said, her voice fraught with concern.

Cass snapped out of her initial shock and blinked.

"Er... Yeah, I'm fine... Vanora, do you mind if I go back to my room?"

Vanora replied, "Go ahead. I'll see you tomorrow. Don't stress yourself out too much- he was just drunk."

Cass nodded and cautiously set off for her room, unable to get rid of the feeling that it wasn't _just_ because that man was drunk. She remembered how is eyes trailed her the other day and shivered. If Galahad and Vanora hadn't been around when she'd seen him, Cass wasn't sure what would have happened.

Cass barricaded herself inside her room, pushing the chair against the door. She'd have felt much safer if the Knights were still at the Fort tonight. But they weren't. And for the second night in a row, Cass got very little sleep.


	13. The Wounded Knight

The Knights returned after two days- two days that Cass had spent worrying for both their safety, and her own. She hadn't seen the Roman who had tried to kiss her since the incident- and for that, she was very glad. Cass had been on her way to the tavern to begin work when the Knights rode in. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw that all seven Knights were there. Battered and bruised from the fight, but all still there.

She smiled as she saw them pass and followed them through to the courtyard Tristan had left her in when she had first been brought to the Fort. Vanora arrived at about the same time as Cass did; reunited with the lover she had so missed, but would never tell. She'd never let him know, she'd said, because he couldn't help where Rome sent him, and he had to go regardless of his or her feelings.

Cass watched as the men dismounted, frowning at the new cuts and would-be scars on the Knights' and Arthur's arms; she suspected there would be more beneath their armour and clothes. Nothing much seemed wrong with the Knights Cass was pleased to see. Until, that is, she saw Lancelot's face as he dismounted. It was a face twisted into a wince, streaked with pain. It was the most un-Lancelot-like expression Cass had ever seen him make. The men disappeared inside the building before Cass could ask what had happened, or even say hello; leaving only Cass and Vanora standing outside.

"Vanora, do you know what's wrong with Lancelot?"

The older woman shook her head at Cass.

"Everything okay with Bors?"

"Oh, you know how it is; he'd never say if there was anything wrong with him," Vanora answered.

"He said the Knights would be in the tavern pretty soon though, you can find out then for me," she added smiling.

Cass blinked.

"Me? What do you mean me? You're far closer to them. I mean, you're-"

"Ah, but I'll be working."

"So will I, though..."

Vanora shrugged, and with a smile replied, "Take the night off."

Cass watched the woman walk away, not sure of what thoughts were going through Vanora's mind, and trailed after her. Later that day, all of the Knights appeared in the tavern- almost all of them anyway. Cass noted that Lancelot was missing. The Knights didn't seem too worried though, so it mustn't be too bad, whatever had happened. She was still worried. Cass placed a jug and some glasses on a tray and took them over to the Knights.

"Well I was going to say that it's nice to see you all back safely, but Lancelot seems to be absent," Cass said to the Knights, who smiled and replied with nods and hellos.

"Actually, Lancelot got shot in the shoulder. He's supposed to be _resting_," Gawain paused.

"He's just back in his room licking his wounds," he added with a wink and a smile.

_Lancelot was shot?_ Cass tried to blink any worry from her features, convincing herself that his injury clearly wasn't serious; the mood around the Knights would not have been so pleasant if it was. Cass put the tray on the table, but couldn't help thinking about Lancelot being shot, and the scrapes and cuts on all of the men before her. She wasn't sure how or when it had happened, but Cass really had started to care for these men. _Really_ care for them. They had become her make-shift family. And it was an extremely odd feeling for Cass to feel such a familial love for people she had only known a few days. _I suppose that's just the nature of the Knights_, she thought. A hand waving in front of her face soon snapped Cass from her thoughts.

"Anybody home?" the smirking man behind the hand said to Cass.

Cass blinked out of her daydream and backed sharply away from the hand, making Gawain withdraw it with a laugh. Cass smiled as a blush bloomed on her cheeks. She busied herself with pouring the Knights their drinks and handing them around the table.

"So apart from Lancelot then, your erm, _mission_ went okay then?" Cass asked, placing the jug on the table and pushing a black curl behind her ear.

Galahad shrugged and complained with a scowl, "Every _mission's_ just the same, us risking our lives for a bunch of fat, Roman ars-"

"Woah, clearly you need something to drink, Galahad!" Bors laughed, shoving a glass into the younger Knight's hand.

The night seemed to Cass to pass by in seconds. Almost everything was back to normal; the Knights drinking, laughing, and even Tristan sitting silently in the corner, cutting apart his apple with a small knife. Cass smiled, only faltering when remembering the perfect picture's one flaw; the flirtatious, missing Knight.

She sighed, deciding she would take him something to eat on her way to her room. When they were ready, Dagonet and Tristan offered to walk Cass back to her room. She accepted their offer with a grateful smile and a nod, grabbing some food that Vanora had put aside especially.

It was nice. A comfortable, relaxing walk home with the two quiet Knights. What was nicest about it, Cass thought, was that it felt normal. The fact that she had clumsily tripped over her dress only made everything all the more normal. She seemed to fall over more in this time than she had in her own. Cass blushed bright red as Tristan caught her with his strong hands. She thanked him as he helped her upright once more- his helping her up being another thing that seemed to be happening a lot since she'd been in this time. Cass sighed at her clumsiness and made a mental note to watch where she stepped more carefully anyway.

She gave her goodnights to Tristan and Dagonet and continued on to the door across from her room. Cass took a breath and knocked. The silence that came in return made her question herself. _What if he's trying to sleep and you're just waking him up?_ She was about to turn away when the door swung open. Before Cass, stood a shirtless Lancelot, who looked a little taken aback at the sight of her.

"Well, what do I owe the pleasure of such a beautiful young woman turning up at my door at this time of night?" he asked with a smile.

Cass blushed, but gave him a hard stare. He chuckled a little in response, but when he did, Cass saw him wince.

"Are you alright?" she questioned, concern wrinkling her brow.

Lancelot nodded slowly, the wince still plaguing his features.

"Perhaps you should lie down," Cass suggested.

"Only if you'll join me," he replied, winking at her.

She looked at him seriously, and, in a stern voice, said, "Right, now listen. That's enough of that, thank you. I've had enough of it. Okay?"

Lancelot stared at her blankly, until a small glimmer of amusement sparked in his eyes and he held up his hands in an appeasing gesture.

"Good. Now that's sorted, I brought you some food."

Cass handed Lancelot the food Vanora had given her for him and he took it with a smile.

"Thank you... Would you care to come in?"

Seeing the look on her face, he shook his head and smiled, adding, "Just for the company, you forget everyone else was having fun and getting drunk while I was sat in here, all alone."

Though still sceptical, Cass walked inside Lancelot's room. She knew that although he had a reputation- and rightfully so- it didn't mean he would try anything with her. She did trust him. Like she trusted all of the Knights. Lancelot gestured to the chair in the corner of his room, while he sat down on his bed and began to eat.

"Er, Lancelot?"

He looked up at her as he took a bite out of a slice of meat.

"Would you mind putting a shirt on?"

His lips turned into a smile at her request, and he placed his plate beside him on his bed.

"Actually, I can't. A shirt would irritate this-" Lancelot answered, turning so that his back was facing Cass.

For the first time she saw where he had been shot. Saw the wound he had gained in the two days he and the others had been away. It wasn't pleasant. It was clean- someone had cleaned and closed the wound with stitches. But it wasn't pleasant at all. The skin around the wound was as red as one of Cass' blushes.

"Ouch," Cass whispered.

"Is that as painful as it looks?"

Lancelot turned back to her and smirked.

"Well, actually I don't know; I can't see it."

Cass smiled and rolled her eyes at the Knight.

"It does hurt though."

Cass' smile slowly left her face as she sat in the stiff wooden chair. Lancelot began eating again, letting the subject of pain drop. So Cass used the moment to look around his room. It was quite simple, like her room, but it had a few personal touches. Lancelot's weapons and armour had accorded special place in one corner of the room. _His armour looks well worn_, Cass thought with a frown, _too well worn._ His bed was covered in furs, rather than a blanket like Cass' had covering hers. _Furs? It's not that cold... Why does- Actually, don't ask, you won't want to know the answer most likely_, she thought, conversing with herself in her head.

She turned back to Lancelot to find his eyes on her. She looked away and blushed; she hated it when people stared at her- even if they were friends. Cass' eyes found something they had not noticed before- and she really wasn't sure how she hadn't noticed it before. The object was relatively small, worn around Lancelot's neck. It seemed some sort of carving. It was very pretty.

"What's that, Lancelot? If you don't mind my asking that is," Cass said curiously.

He followed her gaze to the carving at his chest. The twinkle in his eyes seemed to fade as a sort of sadness crept in. Cass almost immediately regretted her question.

"And I had half-hoped you were talking about something else," he said with a smirk, looking back up at her.

Cass stared at him sharply, noticing that he had gone back to that flirtatious side of himself to avoid the subject she had brought up.

"Sorry," he said smiling.

"Old habits die hard."

Cass rolled her eyes and stood up, about to walk from the room.

"Goodnight, Lancelot," she said with a small laugh.

"What did I say?" his feigning-shocked, but still clearly joking voice called after her as the door shut with a soft thud behind her.

**Author's Note: **So wow, guys! It's pretty amazing for me to see so many of you reading a reviewing this story, and I just want to thank you all! :D

I decided that I will draw all the Knights as Cass does- Gawain is already done- but I shan't be posting the pictures online until Cass reveals the pictures tothe Knights. :)

Thanks for reading once again! :)

Kit xx


	14. A Little Anger Always Helps

Images flashed through her sleeping mind. The faces of two people in particular kept reappearing in flickering waves, like pictures flapping in a great wind. The woman with short, dark hair and gentle grey eyes. The man with curly black hair and a smile to soften a heart. Cass' parents. Her loving parents. She frowned in her sleep as their smiling faces turned sad, worried, pained. It was her fault. What would they be thinking? That she had just disappeared? That she ran away- or worse, was kidnapped? Tears rolled down her cheeks though her dream kept her pinned to sleep.

Breaking free of her dream's entrapment, Cass' eyes opened sharply and she sat bolt upright in bed; the flashing images of her parents' faces imprinted behind her eyes. The pain on their faces caused more tears to fall. They were in pain and she was here, enjoying herself; living how she had always imagined she'd love to live. And she did love it. But the pain in their faces had brought her back to reality. What could she do though? She didn't even know how she had arrived here, let alone how to get back.

A bigger question plagued her mind; one that made her hate herself; because as much as her parents' pain hurt her, _did she really want to go home?_

Her parents' lives would eventually go on, they loved her, but their lives _would_ go on. But would hers if she ever went back to the future? She had felt something when she was in this time. It was happiness. Cass, for once in her life, felt like she belonged. She didn't want to lose that. She had always felt as if she was out of place in her own time; here she was... If she went back...

Cass shook her head from her thoughts. She didn't want to think about anything related to her dream. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and swung her legs from the bed. Sighing, Cass stood up on wobbly legs and dressed in one of the dresses that she had grown comfortable in. A knock at her door startled her; it contrasted the silence she had heard all morning, the silence from her dream.

"Who is it?" Cass asked, looking towards the door from where she stood beside her bed.

"It's Dagonet."

Cass smiled, and answered, "Come in."

The tall Knight opened the door slowly and stood in its place. _He's almost the same height as my door_, Cass mused to herself.

"Morning," he said with a nod.

"Morning," she replied, flashing a smile in his direction.

He paused for a moment, and then said, "I just wondered if you'd like to go and train. I've got some time now."

Cass raised her eyebrows and a smile turned the corners of her lips. She nodded enthusiastically towards Dagonet and went to leave the room. A thought stopped her.

"You know, I wish you'd come a couple of minutes earlier," she smiled.

He looked at her in confusion.

She explained, "I just got dressed. Will you give me a moment to change?"

He nodded, immediately leaving the room and pulling the door back to its closed position. The girl changed into her training clothes quickly; eager to follow Dagonet to the Knights' training hill, eager to discover what Dagonet would teach her. When she was ready, Cass grabbed her charcoal and her paper, ready to uphold her part of the bargain.

When they walked outside, Cass was surprised to see the sun as a shining beacon in the pale blue sky, few clouds interrupting its shine. A hot day was really not what she'd been expecting. _Good old British weather eh? _Cass thought. _Always catching me off guard._

As they walked through the Fort, Dagonet noticed that Cass was wary of every Roman soldier they passed, her eyes darting, searching for their faces and relaxing when they found them. Cass couldn't stop looking for the Roman who'd tried to kiss her; it's not like she wanted to find him, but he was constantly plaguing her mind. She wasn't sure if he had done it only because he was drunk, but she was watching out for him because she _didn't_ want to meet him again and find out.

Dagonet and Cass climbed the hill outside the Fort and, when they stood atop it, Dagonet stopped. For the first time Cass noticed the weapons Dagonet had strung across his back; two very large, very heavy-looking swords. One was his, and, Cass assumed, one must have been for her. Dagonet turned to her as her un-shouldered the swords.

"Erm, Dagonet? Are we...? Should we...?"

Giving up on trying to come up with a polite way to ask, she sighed, "Drawing or training first?"

After a moment, he answered simply, "We'll train."

Cass nodded, and went to put her things at the base of _Tristan's Tree._ She turned back to see Dagonet holding the second sword out to her, hilt first. Cass circled her fingers around the handle; expecting the sword to be of some serious weight, she did the same with her other hand. Seeing that her hands were tightly wrapped around the sword, Dagonet released his grip. The sword hit the ground as soon as he had. A surprised Cass looked up to see Dagonet chuckling at her.

"You could have warned me!" Cass said, a frown arching her brow.

Dagonet's smile remained as Cass took a breath and attempted to lift the heavy sword again. When she'd finally managed to lift the sword and hold it off the ground for more than three seconds, she smiled, though her legs were a little shaky.

"Lift with your legs, not your back."

"It's not so much my back I'm worried about; it's more the fact that I seem to have the upper body strength of a five year old child."

Dagonet laughed again, shaking his head as he picked up his own sword. He swung it from side to side with tremendous ease and Cass scowled at him. He handled the sword as if it was no heavier than a piece of paper.

"Yeah, rub it in, why don't you," she muttered under her breath.

"Try swinging it," Dagonet suggested.

Cass gathered her strength and heaved the sword to one side. It almost trailed a line in the grass as a child playing with a stick would. She sighed. Cass tried again, this time trying to use her body weight to help with the swing. Her second try was better; but still not good.

"I know you can use a sword, it's just the same, but a little heavier."

She nodded, trying again and again; and Dagonet could see that she was progressively getting more and more frustrated with herself. _There's nothing motivating her_, Dagonet thought as he watched the girl grapple with the weapon.

"Come on, I _know_ you can do this. What happened to the strength you used when you punched that Roman?"

Cass looked up at him, blinking and letting the tip of the sword hit the ground.

"How did you know about that?" she asked.

"Vanora told Bors, Bors told everyone..." Dagonet answered, nonchallantly.

She sighed.

"I don't know what happened when I hit him. It was like I got so angry and I just hit out," she answered quietly, frowning as she remembered the incident.

"Well, visualise it; your anger. Use it."

Cass turned her gaze back to the sword, and, taking a deep breath, she hefted it upwards. Remembering how the Roman's hand had grasped her neck to pull her towards him, she exhaled, letting the anger pour through her body, coursing through her veins as if it were her very blood. She swung the sword, this time, near perfectly. She swung it again, and again, far, far better than she could have done before. Anger was what she had needed. Anger to ignore the weight.

Dagonet smiled, and said, "You see, that's much better."

Cass' breathing was heavy, not because she'd over-exerted herself, but because of the energy it took to visualise her anger, to embody it.

"Would you like to try sparring; or...?"

Through breaths, Cass nodded, taking up her sword again. Dagonet readjusted his own sword; he was so comfortable with it, Cass thought it was like an extra, removable appendage to him. She braced herself for his strike; remembering her anger and trying to bring it back into her body, trying to use it to help her arms cope with the strain.

Their sparring session did not last long. Her strength, even aided by her anger, was no competition for the tall, strong Knight she was matched against. Soon her sword was embedded upright in a patch of grass, a metre away from Cass. She exhaled.

"Want to try again?"

Cass shook her head, and said, "I think I need a break, if that's okay with you Dagonet."

The Knight nodded, noticing the strain that their fight had put on her. She went and sat down with her back against _Tristan's Tree_, closing her eyes and trying to control her breathing. The most important thing she was trying to do now; was to block the memory of the Roman from her mind. She thought_, Perhaps it wasn't the weight of the sword that had put such a strain on me. Perhaps it was remembering that night and that creepy Roman soldier. _She opened her eyes again and saw Dagonet sitting in front of her, the swords resting in the grass beside him.

Leaning forward, Cass said quietly, "Thank you."

After a pause, she added, "Would you mind if I drew you now?"

The Knight gestured for her to go ahead and Cass picked up her art supplies, beginning at once. Her arms had felt tired before she began, but drawing was always therapeutic for Cass- it actually helped relieve the strain she had originally felt.

"You know, I'll admit, I wasn't quite expecting to be so bad at all these things I'm being taught," Cass said, making conversation as she darkened the initial marks she'd made on the page.

Dagonet smiled.

"You're not bad," he replied

"You're just new to these things."

She tilted her head and said, "Oh, please don't tell me I just need to practice."

"Well..." he replied.

Cass scowled at the man before her, who chuckled at her.

"Why is it that every time I'm serious, all of you Knights laugh at me?" she said disbelievingly.

Dagonet shrugged, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the smile from his face. Cass stopped talking after that, focussing on her drawing, and getting it perfect. She was enjoying talking to Dagonet, but every time he spoke, he moved, and it would make it harder for Cass to get his picture right. Finally, when she was satisfied the picture was finished, Cass stood up.

"Done?" Dagonet asked.

"Done," she confirmed.

Standing up, Dagonet joined Cass, grabbing the swords as he pushed himself to his feet. As they walked back to the Fort, Dagonet asked Cass if he could see the picture. She shook her head.

Cass replied, "I told Gawain the same the other day, but I won't be showing any of you until they're all finished."

Dagonet, surprising Cass, simply nodded. They decided to meet with the other Knights later at the tavern, as Dagonet and the Knights currently had some business to see to. Cass rushed to her room, storing Dagonet's picture beside Gawain's. Cass smiled at the pictures. When the set was complete, she knew they would be perfect. Not because of her artistic skills- though they helped- but because the Knights deserved them. Gawain's idea had been brilliant.

Cass had changed back into the blue dress she was wearing before Dagonet knocked that morning and headed to the tavern to begin work. She thought that she should get something to eat also, as she hadn't had any food all morning.

When the Knights arrived in the tavern that night, Cass was happy to see that Lancelot had rejoined them. _The Doctor must have said he could come out of his room, _Cass thought. _Either that or he's just completely ignored the man and gone out anyway. Most likely the latter. _Arthur had joined the Knights too. _He must be happy that his friend is well again_, Cass thought as she smiled.

The night became as the previous night was; filled with drinking and laughter from the corner table. If ever there was a table to look at in the tavern, it was the Knights' table. For the most part, the Knights were loud and drunk, all except Tristan, who remained mostly quiet throughout the evening, though probably drinking as much as they did.

Cass ducked under the bar, her fingers clasping around one of Tristan's apples. She pulled it free from the basket and stood once more, walking over to the Knights' table. She made her way to the corner of the table and handed the apple to him, his fingers brushing hers as he took it from her. Cass could feel a blush creeping onto her cheeks and turned from Tristan and the Knights, not wanting them to see, and pretended to be checking her shoelace. _Why am I blushing anyway? All he did was touch my hand_, she thought as she fiddled with her shoe, mentally chastising herself. She turned back once sure the blush was gone, once she heard her name called by one of the Knights. It was Bors.

"Cass!" he called; the drunkenness in his voice, quite easy to hear.

"Yes, Bors?" Cass answered, trying not to smile.

"You've spent all evening getting us drinks, getting everyone drinks- how about you have a drink?" Bors' voice roared.

Cass' eyebrows raised, and she replied, "Oh, no. Erm, I'm working, I shouldn't-"

She didn't get to finish before Galahad interrupted her.

"Oh, come on! It's just one drink!"

She opened her mouth to reply.

"Ah, but what if she's too chicken?" Gawain chipped in.

"Well that's hardly fair," Cass frowned.

It was only when a chorus of chicken noises came from the drunken Bors and Gawain, that Cass said, "All right, all right! If it means you'll let me get back to work I'll do it."

Dagonet held out his full glass to Cass. She took hold of it, looking first at its contents, and then at the expectant Knights' faces around her. Cass downed the drink easily; none of the Knights had known that she was actually very good at holding her own when it came to drinking. She was the youngest of her few friends and had attended their eighteenth birthday parties; she'd discovered there that she could outlast them all in drinking games. The Knights didn't know that.

She smiled as she placed the empty glass on the table. All of the Knights looked up at her, surprise written clearly across many of their faces. She didn't quite know what they had expected from her drinking- but it wasn't what they got; she had clearly confounded them. All except Tristan, whose face remained almost passive, though one corner of his lips turned upward and the glint Cass had seen before in his eyes was present once more.

"Right. Can I get back to work now?" Cass said, smiling at the Knights.


	15. Badly Sunburnt

Cass sat between Dagonet and Gawain, tearing apart a chunk of crusty bread that Vanora had given her, occasionally placing a tiny piece into her mouth. She hadn't really got used to eating bread for breakfast yet. _Toast- fine. But bread? That's not normal,_ she thought, smiling as she chewed.

"Something funny?" Gawain asked gruffly from beside her.

Cass looked up at him and shook her head, amused. Gawain, like most of the Knights, seemed to be nursing a hangover. She noticed that Bors and Vanora had been missing for most of the morning, though she supposed that that was for a different reason.

Cass assumed that Tristan must be okay, because he was absent once more, probably out scouting as his usual morning routine demanded. Though Cass was surprised to see that she was either wrong or that Tristan had come back early, as he soon appeared and took his place in the corner of the table. He nodded to Cass and the Knights as he sat down, leaning back into his chair. Cass returned the nod with a small smile. Gawain nodded, and then lay his head down on the table, clamping his hands over her head.

Cass tried her best not to laugh as she said, "How mean would it be if I just make a really loud noise?"

Gawain turned his head to face Cass, his head still resting on the wooden table, and jokingly mouthed, "I hate you," to her.

Cass burst out laughing, much to the annoyance of Gawain, who pressed his hands over his ears.

"Perhaps you shouldn't drink so much next time, Gawain," Cass smiled.

"Story of his life," Dagonet said from the other side of Cass.

After taking a sip from the glass of water before him, Galahad turned to Cass, saying, "So, Cass."

She turned her gaze to him, over the slumped form of Gawain on the table between them.

"It'll be Tristan and I training you today. If you're still interested that is," he finished.

Cass blinked.

After a moment, she replied, "Yeah, sure. I just thought since last night that no one would really be up for training today."

"Not all of us had quite as much as Gawain last night," Galahad said with a smirk.

"Perhaps you should go back to bed?" he added, turning to his friend.

"You're probably right," Gawain answered into the table, but made no move to leave.

Galahad chuckled at his friend and slapped him on the back as he got to his feet.

"I'll go and get what we need; I'll meet you both in the usual place in a while," Galahad said, to both Cass and Tristan.

Tristan nodded, as the younger Knight walked away from them, leaving Cass in considerable suspense as to what he and Tristan would be teaching her. Cass placed the last crumb of the bread she had made her way though, into her mouth. She then turned to where Tristan was sat- had been sat. He was gone in the time it had taken her to put a small piece of bread in her mouth and look up. Her head turned to look for him and she jumped when she saw that he was behind her again.

Cass almost choked on the bread she was eating, and she began to cough. Dagonet's large hand patted her back in attempt to help her; though she was so small a girl, he half winded her. When she'd managed to stop herself coughing, Cass took a sip of water. Then she stood, and turned to Tristan, who had a strange look in his eyes; one that wasn't passive, but one that Cass could not read.

"Please stop doing that," she said quietly, with a pleading smile.

He simply nodded in reply, his face becoming an expressionless mask once more.

"Ready?" his deep voice asked.

"Yes, Cass answered, following him as he headed from the tavern.

Tristan walked quickly; Cass had forgotten just how quickly he walked, but now her memory flashed back to when Tristan had taken her into the building behind the gated courtyard, the building that housed the famous Round Table. Cass struggled to keep up with him once more; but this time, instead of increasing his pace, he slowed it and walked at what Cass thought was a more acceptable pace for someone with such little legs as her. Cass almost waited for Tristan to speak; until she remembered that he wasn't really the type to actively make conversation, so Cass made the effort instead.

"Thank you for bringing me here," she said quietly.

His head turned to her, his expression once again unreadable.

"To the Fort, when you found me, I mean. I just realised that I never really thanked you properly," Cass added.

The Knight nodded to her, turning his head forward once more. Silence followed as they headed first to Cass' room, where Tristan waited outside as she changed and grabbed her art supplies, and then they continued to the gates. As they waited for the Fort's gates to be opened for them, Tristan, surprising Cass, spoke.

"Do you like it here?"

Cass looked to him, turning her gaze from the massive gates before her. She was almost taken aback that he had spoken; she had thought conversation had ended at her attempt.

"I do," she replied quietly, almost melancholic.

She still hated herself for liking this life so much, for not actively seeking a way back to her own time. Cass just liked living in her dream too much to risk giving it up.

"It's... I don't know... I just feel like I was meant to live here? Does that make sense?" Cass asked as they walked out into the grass un-swept by the non-existent wind.

His gaze still to the landscape in front, he replied quietly, "Yes."

Cass continued, realising that she would get no further response from him, but grateful that he understood; "This is still my country, and it can't be too far from where I live, or used to live; but... It's just different here. In my time, I felt so out of place, like an outsider. Here I feel like I belong."

Tristan understood what she meant completely. _An outsider_. He was the outsider here in Britain; the Knight that didn't match. When he had found Cass in the forest he had been returning from a self-imposed, morning scouting mission. He wasn't really as over-vigilant as the others all thought; he just wanted to be away from them sometimes. None of the other Knights understood how isolated he was, being the only one who truly appreciated, or even noticed, nature around them. His companion, the hawk, knew better than he that in nature alone, one could be free. Even in the raw, basic animal nature of killing, of ending a life, there was freedom. And that was the only freedom the Romans had allowed him.

Being as close to nature as he could be was the only way Tristan had ever felt free. But after seeing Cass' drawing of the graveyard; he thought, hoped, that perhaps Cass understood what he did. The beauty in nature; the beauty in a freedom he may never know.

When they reached the top of the hill, Tristan sat at the base of his tree, in the exact place that Cass had sat the previous day. Cass sat down beside him, placing her paper and charcoal between them an unintended barrier. They sat together for only a moment, until they heard Galahad approaching. Cass turned to see the youngest Knight carrying two bows and a quiver full of arrows.

Cass' heart sank. Archery. Archery training had been what Cass was most worried about. She had hoped that since Gawain had seen how awful she was with projectile weapons that he might tell the others to ignore archery. Apparently he had not warned them off. _Ah crap._

"Right, well; shall we?" Galahad said with a grin.

Cass opened her mouth to respond but found that her mouth was too dry to speak, so she simply stood instead. Cass rolled up her sleeves in a nervous way, pushing them just passed her elbows. Galahad held out a bow to her and she paused for a moment, reaching out. As her fingers curled around the bow, she unconsciously bit her bottom lip.

"Nervous?" Galahad asked, raising his eyebrows as he noticed her expression.

Cass tilted her head to the side slightly and smiled nervously at the Knight. Galahad smirked as he pulled free an arrow from the quiver.

"Have you ever shot an arrow before?" Galahad asked, as she looked hopelessly at the arrow he held out for her.

Cass turned bright red, which only released a laugh from the man in front of her.

"So come on," he said finally.

"Explain the blush."

"Oh no. You don't want me to explain- _really_-"

"Come on," Galahad said, trying to goad her into explaining herself.

She looked to Tristan, hoping for some support, but he merely stared back at her, the glint twinkling in his eyes.

"Oh, fine..." Cass said, giving up.

"I tried archery once. I was pretty awful, though I probably could have gotten better if it wasn't for..."

Cass stopped talking, her cheeks darkening as a fresh flush bleached them. She crossed her arms over her chest just so she had something to do with them, the bow and arrow still in her hands. Galahad's expectant smile urged her to continue, and her lips tightened, almost becoming a straight line as her embarrassment continued.

"Certain _things_ got in the way..." Cass finished finally, looking away from Galahad awkwardly.

"What _are_ you talking about?" Galahad asked with a bemused expression.

"Oh, just..." Cass groaned.

One of Cass' hands reached for her forehead, pinching the spot between her brow.

"My breasts, okay? That's what got in the way! Happy now?" she muttered, her gaze to the floor.

She didn't have to look up to realise what was happening in response to her revelation. Galahad's laughs were long and loud, and Cass could only sit down on the grass, crossing her legs and leaning her head into her hand. She heard nothing from Tristan, but that was nothing unusual; she had barely seen him smile since she'd been there.

The laughter continued for quite awhile before Cass said, "Can you not laugh, please? There's no way you're making this any less embarrassing..."

Galahad's laughs lessened relatively; not because he found it less amusing, but because he was trying to make her feel better.

"How... I mean-"

"Oh Galahad, please drop it. There was bruising, and I wasn't ever expecting to do it again, and I'd just rather not talk about it anymore," Cass snapped grumpily, her face still dyed reddish in colour.

Galahad raised his hands in the air in a mock gesture of appeasement.

"Alright," he smiled, still trying not to laugh.

"How about I show you how to hold the bow properly- so that that _doesn't_ happen?"

Cass looked up at him, happy to see that he'd dropped the subject, but still nervous at actually having to try shooting an arrow again. She stood, holding the bow in her left arm, and absent-mindedly twiddling the arrow in her right hand. Galahad came up beside her and put her into a position her last archery teacher had not. She wasn't likely to get any more bruises if she held the bow that way. She'd make sure she _always_ held it that way.

"Okay, so now you can hold the bow, try hitting that tree over there," Galahad said, pointing to a tree about ten metres away.

Cass bit her lip. _Erm... This sucks. Don't panic. Just relax and try to hit the tree. It's not far away. Just. Hit. The. Tree._ She released the bow string and watched; her line of sight trailing the arrow as it disappeared into the long grass to the side of the tree. _Well that was pathetic._ Her cheeks marooned again.

"Gods that was awful..." Cass said aloud.

Galahad grinned at her and shrugged. Their practise continued for a long time and Cass showed little improvement. Perhaps at one point her arrow had glided closer to the tree, but her mild success was ruined when her next shot was even worse.

"You know Tristan, I think we're going to need a few more practices just to get her to hit the target," Galahad said to the quiet Knight, still leaning against the tree.

Cass blushed once more. _Anyone who passes me today might actually think I've been badly sunburnt, I've blushed so much_, Cass thought. She had forgotten about Tristan though; he had been sat so silently, just watching Cass' failed attempts at archery. The Knight just looked at Cass, the faint hint of a smile almost making it to his lips. Cass sighed again, refusing to turn around to Tristan while the rouge of her embarrassment was still clearly evident on her face. Though Cass didn't have to turn for Tristan to see her face however, as he soon appeared beside her holding the other bow and an arrow.

"Watch me," his deep voice requested.

She turned to him after trying in vain to cool her cheeks. Her eyes followed his movements precisely; the strength of his arms as he drew back the bowstring, the focus of his eyes as he chose his target, the way he held his breath, only releasing it as he did the arrow. The arrow struck the tree dead centre and Cass realised that she, too, had been holding her breath. She exhaled as Tristan lowered the bow and turned to her.

"Now you try."

Cass' attempt to mimic Tristan's movements failed. Admittedly the arrow she had just fired had almost grazed the tree this time though, so it was much closer than she'd ever been before. Cass sighed, wishing that her last arrow has at least made contact with the bark. That would at least be _slightly_ less embarrassing.

"You tilt your bow to the left at the last minute," Tristan said to her.

She frowned, having no recollection of ever tilting her bow to the left. Who was she to argue though. Cass lifted her bow to try again, taking up another arrow. She tried to focus completely on the tree in front of her, though her concentration was distracted when Tristan moved behind her, placing his hands over hers and guiding her movements. Cass was glad he was behind her now, so that he was unable to see just how red she had turned.

Tristan positioned her arms carefully, making sure to keep her in the stance Galahad had originally placed her in. He didn't want to be the cause of any of her bruises.

When the pair released the arrow, it flew straight for the tree. Cass was stunned that she'd actually managed to hit something. _Well, actually it was Tristan that hit the tree, you were just... There,_ she thought to herself. She and Tristan stood in the same position, frozen in the moment.

"Well, well, well!" Galahad said from where he stood, behind Tristan and Cass.

At the sound of his voice, Tristan moved back from Cass. As much as his being so close had made her blush, Cass was almost disappointed that Galahad's voice had interrupted the moment. And she wasn't all that sure why she was so disappointed.

"Look who finally managed to hit something!" Galahad continued with a grin.

"Har, har," Cass replied sarcastically.

"Now let's see if you can do it again on your own."

It took Cass six more tries to hit the tree again- and even then, it had been off to the far right. She took a deep breath.

"I think that's enough, Cass. We'll try again another day," Galahad said, wrenching the arrow free from the bark.

"Oh joy," Cass answered, passing Galahad the bow he had given her.

She turned and expected to see Tristan. She was disappointed, however, when she found no one sat in front of _Tristan's Tree_; no silent Knight like she'd thought she'd find. Cass noticed that she felt that disappointed feeling in the pit of her stomach once more. _It must just be hunger_, she thought. Then she remembered her paper and charcoal, and she smiled. She went over to _Tristan's Tree_ and picked them up, beckoning Galahad to sit beside her.

"At least I get to be good at _something_ today," she smiled as she began to draw Galahad.

He smiled at her, the grin on his face still quite boyish. They sat together for the time it took Cass to finish her picture, discussing the Knights' life at the Fort in the thirteen years they'd been in Britain. Cass discovered that Galahad disliked being in Britain, hated his time under Roman control, the only thing he found bearable was the company of the Knights- for the most part. At times, he found them irritating; he always would be picked on in a brotherly way as the youngest of the group.

"I think... I'm done," Cass said, making one final mark on the page before her.

"That wasn't too bad," Galahad replied with a smile.

"Oh, and I know, _you won't let me see it until you've finished them all_."

Cass beamed a smile at the curly-haired, young Knight she was walking back to the Fort with, and shook her head with a laugh.

"Too right," Cass grinned back at him.


	16. Walking, Falling and Much Confusion

Cass stepped into the corridor and slowly pulled her door closed behind her. Someone had left the door at the end of the corridor open and a cold chill had flooded inside. Cass shivered; though a smile crept onto her lips. As sunny as it had been the day before, the weather was now cold and hostile, a morning frost coating everything outside. A lot of things here were different to her own time, but the British weather was constant- and as changeable as it always would be.

Cass walked out into the cold, and pulled the door closed behind her. She had kept the chill from her own room with a closed door and would now, hopefully, banish it from the corridor too. Cass turned her gaze to the buildings in front of her and grinned. They reminded her of a morning she'd seen about a year before; not because of the buildings' design, just how the buildings looked covered in a thin layer of bitter frost.

The morning she remembered had not been in winter, but the morning air was as it often was where Cass lived; frigid and harsh. Wind had whipped her ebony curls in all angles; though apart from the swaying trees, the frost created a perfect, glittering picture. The sun's golden rays glinted in sparkling reflections against windows and cars. The glint was present in Roman Britain too, Cass was pleased to see.

Cass shook herself from her thoughts, remembering the chill of the air. She tried to cover her fingers with her sleeves, but thought she looked ridiculous, her arms locked as if she had stumps instead of hands. Cass decided instead to fold her arms, burying her fingertips between the vacuum her compressed arms created. Her breath formed a path before her, a steamy cloud floating in the morning air.

Cass knew that the weather would most likely change again by midday, the morning coolness having melted away into wet droplets, but she tried to savour the weather while it stuck. It was a reminder that, though she was somewhere so completely away from the life she'd known, Britain was still there- frustrating thousands, she was sure, with its ever-changing climate.

As she walked to the tavern, Cass noticed fewer people had ventured from their houses; only the people who actually had to be outside had even bothered to leave their homes. Cass walked straight to the tavern, but it took her a little longer than usual as she'd had to watch where she stepped. She knew too well that morning frost meant slippery floors.

When Cass finally arrived at the tavern, she tried to find Vanora. Her moment of distraction cost her dearly, as she missed a previously wet patch on the ground. The half-ice a greasy surface that sent Cass straight to the floor, falling flat on her backside. She felt her face flush red, her cheeks burning from their newly found heat. Cass groaned, pushing herself upwards. She heard someone laughing at her from across the tavern, she'd bet her life that it was one of the Knights. _That seriously hurt,_ she thought, articulating her sentiments with another groan.

Standing, Cass saw that it was Lancelot who had been laughing at her. She glared at him as he made his way over to her, a smirk still evidently present upon his face. Cass tried to quickly brush off the dirt on her dress, but gave up as the newly-soaked section of her dress forbade it.

"Are you alright?" he asked, attempting to resist laughing again as she grimaced in response.

"To be honest, I've been better" Cass answered through gritted teeth.

Lancelot flashed a smile at Cass, and with a laugh, he held out a hand to help her to the Knights' table. She accepted it, not taking any more chances. She didn't want to slip again; it was embarrassing enough the first time- if she did it again, she'd never live it down. Cass sat at her usual seat, between two empty seats; Cass realised that Lancelot was the only Knight present.

"Where-"

"They're still in bed. Too cold," Lancelot said, interrupting her.

Cass nodded slowly in acknowledgement.

"Tristan's probably out already though; scouting. I swear that man never sleeps," he added with a sideways smile.

Cass smiled back. _That sounds about right_, she thought as she remembered how early she'd been awake the other day when she'd walked into Tristan in the dark. He went out scouting every morning, but almost always made his way back to the Fort in time breakfast. Cass had always wondered when he found time to actually sleep.

"Until about a week ago, he used to spend a lot longer out scouting. He used to miss breakfast most of the time," Lancelot continued, as if trying to understand the change in the quiet Knight's behaviour.

Cass shrugged, though a frown creased her brow slightly. _She _had only ever seen Tristan miss breakfast once; on the first morning she spent at the Fort, but, apart from that, he'd always been there. The revelation that he hadn't before only confused her. Cass shivered as a cold draft blew in her direction, snapping her from her thoughts.

"Are you cold?" Lancelot asked her, his usually smooth voice tinted with some sort of unease.

"A little," Cass admitted, tilting her head to the side slightly.

"You should get a cloak. It would help take the chill from the wind," he reasoned.

Cass considered his suggestion for a moment. There were no coats here; but a cloak? It would keep her warm, but... A scene from a film she had watched long ago popped into her head, acting as the only sound, or decidedly un-sound, reason for her to not get a cloak. _An animated woman, a designer, throwing a wad of paper at the large man beside her, shouting, "NO CAPES!"_ Cass smiled, a cloak really was just a cape but without the connotations. Though she doubted very much that any cloak she got would get snagged on a missile fin, or caught in a jet turbine, or sucked into a vortex...

A hand waving in front of her face caught her attention. She blinked, realising she'd started daydreaming mid-conversation. Lancelot smirked at her as she shook herself from her thoughts.

"Sorry about that, I just... remembered something."

Seeing the intrigued look on his face, she quickly added, "It doesn't matter, it's a... my time thing. Anyway, you're right, I should get a cloak. Can you show me where to get one?"

Lancelot smiled and stood up, holding out an arm for Cass to take. Cass exhaled, and took his arm slowly.

"My pleasure," he answered, beginning to sound a little more like the Lancelot she'd first met.

Lancelot decided to walk her back to her room first, so she could pick up what money she'd earned from working in the tavern.

"You know, it's probably a good job no one's around this morning."

He looked at her curiously.

She continued, "Well this way, less people saw me fall over."

He smirked at her, and, with a wink, said, "Are you sure it's just so you don't blush as much you would if other people saw you on my arm?"

Cass dropped his arm, with an unimpressed stare.

"You know, I think I'd rather just fall over," she said in a flat voice.

Lancelot let out a short laugh, before saying with a smile, "Alright, alright, I'll behave! I promise."

He held out his arm once more and Cass took it reluctantly, muttering, "You'd better."

As it turned out, it had been a good job Lancelot had hold of Cass' arm, as the pair came across another concealed, frosted-over puddle; that Cass, of course, had to step, and slip, on. Lancelot caught her before she hit the floor.

"You're actually quite deadly on ice, aren't you?" Lancelot said, smirking at the unsteady girl.

"Only to myself," she mumbled.

"And would you believe I love frosty weather?" she added in what came out as a sarcastic comment, but was not meant that way.

When they reached the door Cass had closed earlier, they walked through it to the building beyond. The air inside had warmed considerably since she had left the corridor that morning, and gave Cass' freezing fingertips some release. Cass quickly found her money beneath her pillow, concealed in the pillow case, and headed back out to Lancelot.

It wasn't long before Cass had purchased a long, grey woollen cloak and was sat back in the tavern with Lancelot. She slumped into her chair, covered in her cloak's warming embrace. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath.

"You were _so_ right about this cloak," Cass said quietly, enjoying the heat she was able to conserve by wearing it.

She heard him chuckle and opened her eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just the way you said that," Lancelot answered with an amused smirk.

Cass glared at him, interpreting where his mind had taken him, and said with a frown, "What thoughts you have. Perhaps you should go and wash them with soap. They could do with being clean for once."

"Seems like _someone's_ on her bad side," Cass heard a voice from behind her say.

It was Gawain. He and Galahad walked towards their table, both smiling.

"Sorry?" Cass asked, turning to him.

"Oh, I was merely mentioning to Galahad that we should be careful, since you already seem to have turned your temper on Lancelot there," he replied, flashing a grin at her.

"Oh, hardly!" Cass scoffed.

"I don't have a temper, I just... don't like it when Lancelot says things like that."

Galahad feigned a shocked expression, his hand slapping against his chest.

"Why Lancelot, there's a first- a woman immune to your charms!" he laughed at his friend.

Lancelot glared jokingly at the laughing Knight, and answered, "And what would you know of such things, you're, what? Fifteen years old?"

All three Knights were laughing now, no one taking the others' jests to heart. Cass smiled at them; they really were like brothers.

"You know, Lancelot," Cass began, matter-of-factly.

"You should probably tone it down on the women for a while- you don't want to go down in history as a famous womaniser do you?"

Lancelot put a hand to his chin in a gesture of mock consideration, before saying, "Well, actually..."

Cass' laughter joined that of the Knights, and the morning passed quickly that way, the remaining Knights drifting into the tavern in dribs and drabs. Even Tristan arrived in time for food, though technically it was really too late to be called breakfast. Cass and Lancelot shared a look and Cass couldn't help the small smile that turned the corners of her lips up slightly.

Conversations had arisen as each Knight sat down, and when the last Knight to arrive, Bors, had parked himself in his seat, the others looked up at him, grinning.

"What?" he said, staring back at them.

"Vanora keep you busy?" Gawain asked, his eyes flashing, insinuating his meaning.

"Course she did, can't keep her hands off me, can she?" Bors replied with a booming laugh.

Cass laughed and shook her head. Typical Bors. Cass was _sure_ Vanora would have something to say about that if she'd have heard him. Cass blinked, _Vanora! I came here before to see if she needed any help!_ Cass stood up quickly, unswirling herself from her cloak, and looked around the tavern, finally locating the flame-haired woman. She walked over to her.

"Morning Vanora," Cass said with a smile.

"Morning Cass; how are you?"

Not wanting to relive her earlier falling embarrassment with a reply about her sore backside and the explanation behind it, Cass answered, "Fine, thank you, how about you?"

"Good," Vanora said, smiling at her.

"Mind giving me a hand?" she added, gesturing to a couple of steaming plates of food on the bar top before her.

"Anytime," Cass replied, taking two plates in her hands.

Cass helped Vanora in the tavern until she walked by the Knights' table, which was now empty except for one Knight. Gawain beckoned her to him and she walked over to him, waiting for him to speak.

"I'm quite bored."

Cass looked at him and waited for him to continue.

When he did not, Cass replied, "Erm, okay..."

She was about to walk away, when he said, "Come on, we're going for a walk."

Cass had no time to react before he'd grabbed her arm and was leading her away from the tavern.

"But I'm supposed to be working, Gawain! Vanora'll-"

"Vanora will be fine," he said as he walked her further away from the tavern and into the slightly sunnier outside.

"There's no use arguing is there?" Cass sighed.

"What are we doing anyway?"

"We're going for a walk," Gawain said with a crooked smile.

"Just relax and enjoy it," he added, laughing as he saw the unimpressed look on her face.

Surprisingly, Cass enjoyed the walk. She saw parts of the Fort she hadn't seen before, and people she hadn't seen before. The streets were now crowded again, back to normal as the morning frost was weaned away by the heat of the sun that had managed to burst through the clouds. It was interesting for Cass to see more of the Fort; she hadn't really been brave enough to venture out on her own, mostly for fear of getting lost.

There was another reason Cass hadn't wanted to explore alone though, and he appeared, emerging from a building, as Cass and Gawain rounded a corner. Her fists clenched and she tried to manoeuvre herself behind Gawain in a hopeless attempt at remaining unseen by the Roman she had punched. Her cheeks had turned a blotchy red colour as she ducked her head down beside Gawain's arm.

It wasn't until they rounded another corner, and Cass had relaxed, that Gawain asked, "What was that about?"

She looked up at him and bit her lip. She took a moment, a breath, before answering.

"That was... the Roman that tried to kiss me."

His eyebrows rose as he asked, "The one you punched?"

She gave a small nod, her teeth teasing her bottom lip once more. Gawain said nothing for a while.

"Why do you think he did it?" Cass asked; just wanting to hear what someone else had to say on the matter, just wanting to hear Gawain say anything at this point.

Gawain shook his head and smiled at her. Her brow furrowed as he did.

"Well, he _could_ have just been drunk."

_Perhaps you were overreacting..._ she thought.

"But you do seem to have some sort of effect on the men of this Fort."

"What do you mean?" Cass asked, confusion clearly invading the tone of her voice.

"Well, think about it. You arrive, and things change. People change. Firstly, you got Tristan to bring you here, something I'd never have thought _he'd_ have done. You got us Knights to train you, something _no one_ has ever been able to do before. And you're working on trying to get Lancelot to stop flirting- and I think he's actually trying," Gawain paused, a sideways smile appearing on his face.

"You're not like people around here- and that's a good thing... Some people react unusual ways to someone so different. That Roman, he tried to kiss you... And I don't know which is worse, but we Knights made friends with you."

Cass elbowed him at the last comment. He made sense though. Her presence _had_ changed everything. Though she still didn't understand what he'd meant about why the Roman had tried to kiss her, or even what effect it was that she was supposedly having on the men she'd met here at the Fort. She looked to the Knight beside her as they continued walking; letting out a long sigh as her mind attempted to convince her that she wasn't having any sort of effect on anyone. And most of all, that that Roman _was_ just drunk.

**Author's Note: **Right, well, I shan't lie. I don't really like this chapter. =/ I mean, I like it... It just wasn't what I set out to write when I started this chapter. So as a result, the next chapter will be longer than it original was meant to be, because I had to move some things around.

Oh, and apologies for the "The Incredibles" reference, I couldn't resist. =P

Erm, and, so yes...

I hope you guys are enjoying this story anyway. =] All your reviews mean sooooooooooooooo much to me, so i want to say thank you again! :D

Kit xx


	17. Unstoppable, For The Most Part

Cass opened her eyes as she lay back in her bed, one hand reaching up to rub her eyes. The other hand swirled and entwined in the cover over her, pulling it up to her chin. The light streaming into her room was a signal for her to get up, or at least a signal for her not to sleep any longer. She let out a long breath and rolled out of bed, trying to smooth down the frizz that sleep had entangled in her hair.

An odd mood came over her, one that she was unable to identify quite yet. She dressed slowly, slipping into her blue dress, and at last pulling on her boots. Cass stood beside the table on which her sword was positioned, and grasped it in her hand. She hadn't practiced with a sword for quite a while; she missed it. Cass made a mental note to go out and practice by herself; just to feel through the motions of a having a sword in her hand once more.

She put the sword back into place on the table and turned her gaze to the charcoal and paper beside it. _That's it!_ she thought with a smile, _I'm in a drawing mood_. Whenever Cass was in a drawing mood she became almost incapable of doing anything until she'd drawn something to get it out of her system. Her smile turned to a frown when another thought entered her mind, _What to draw though?_ Eventually, Cass decided to head down to the tavern and find one of the Knights. She'd just have to convince one of them to sit still long enough for her to draw him.

Cass picked up her art supplies and left the room. As she walked towards the outside door, she paused, looking to the door on her right. Tristan's door. _I could ask Tristan_... Cass thought, as a peculiar feeling crept into the pit of her stomach. She dismissed it and shook her head. _He wouldn't be in anyway... Probably out scouting..._

At the tavern, Cass saw that the Knights' table was empty. She sighed, her mind entirely focussed on the hindrance to her task. Her problem was solved when she looked around the tavern and saw Bors, leaning against the bar. Cass smiled at the sight of the Knight and headed straight over to him.

"Bors!" Cass said, the smile still present on her face.

The Knight looked at her and, with a nod, said, "Morning."

Cass thought about keeping to formalities, asking the how are yous and commenting on the weather, but swiftly dismissed them. _It's Bors. He won't mind, _she thought. She placed her paper and charcoal upon the bar top, and turned to him.

"Right; er, Bors, please don't think me rude, but... Would you mind if I drew you?"

He raised his eyebrows.

"...Like, now?"

A crooked smile crossed his lips as he laughed in reply, "Somebody's in a bit of a rush."

Her smile faltered a little, and she said, "Sorry. I'm just in a _really_ artistic mood. My pictures are usually better when I am, so I thought-"

"Yeah, yeah. You don't have to explain, it's not like I'm doing anything important anyway."

"Thanks, Bors!" Cass beamed at him.

Bors took his usual seat at the corner table, but Cass sat next to him so that she had a better view of the man she was soon to draw. Pulling her legs up and crossing them on top of the chair, she started drawing immediately. The charcoal in her hand swept across the page in lines of varying tones, her finger smudging and spreading the excess into shaded details. It took Cass less time to draw Bors than it had to draw the other Knights so far, but that was because she was in a drawing mood, and when she was in a drawing mood, she was unstoppable.

After forty minutes, Cass had finished her drawing of Bors and she smiled at the Knight. He had been sat as patiently as Cass had ever seen him be, whilst she drew him, and as soon as she told him that she was done, he stood and extended his arms into a stretch.

"Thanks again, Bors," she grinned.

"Why is it, that you're always saying thank you when you're the one doing us Knights a favour?" Bors asked, with a sideways smile.

Cass opened her mouth to reply, but could not seem to wrap her tongue around the words she wanted to say.

Finally, Cass answered, "Drawing a few pictures is hardly payment for all you and the Knights have done for me. I mean, I would undoubtedly be dead by now if Tristan hadn't brought me to the Fort, if you all hadn't decided to let me stay..."

Before walking away, Bors rested a hand on her shoulder, and said in a quiet voice, "Those pictures mean more than you know."

Cass' eyes trailed him as he left; her mouth open as if she had been once more searching for words she would never find. She shut her mouth and stood, ready to take Bors' picture back to her room, lest the other Knights arrive and see it. Cass went quickly, noticing nothing of her surroundings as she walked to her room. She had decided to stop looking for the Roman she'd punched now; she'd like nothing better than to never see him again for as long she was at the Fort- for however long that would be.

Cass stored Bors' picture with Gawain, Dagonet and Galahad's pictures; they were becoming quite a collection, she thought. She placed her charcoal and paper where it had been earlier that morning and picked up her sword. Belting it at her waist, Cass decided that she needed the practice and that she should probably try practicing in a dress. After all, if she ever did get into trouble, her attacker wasn't likely to wait five minutes while she changed into some trousers.

Cass left her room quickly; so quickly that she didn't notice the man in front of her door and walked straight into him. _Not again_, Cass thought with a small groan. She looked up from the chest her face was half-buried in. The first thing she saw were the tattoos on his face; the tattoos that told her immediately that it was Tristan's face that she'd found. Their eyes locked, and Cass saw the glint flash in the brown depths of his eyes. A blush tinted her cheeks crimson; the heat of the colour almost burned her pale flesh.

She stepped back from the Knight's chest and said, "Sorry, Tristan... Why is it we keep meeting with me walking into you?"

The corner of his lips turned upwards and he shrugged. The two stood together for a moment, unmoving before Cass' closed door. Cass' blush refused to fade and, out of embarrassment, she broke the lock his eyes held her in by looking to the ground. Tristan broke the silence that chasmed between them.

"I just got back. I wondered if you'd had breakfast yet," he said quietly, his gaze still lingering on her blue eyes, the flecks of gold that sparkled around the pupils.

Cass blinked, dark eyelashes fluttering in front of her eyes.

"Erm, no, actually I haven't. I'd forgotten about breakfast to be honest," she replied, realising that she was, in fact, quite hungry.

Tristan paused a moment before continuing, his deep voice still quiet, "Would you like to get some?"

The odd feeling hit Cass in the pit of her stomach again, though stronger than the last time. She let out a long breath and dismissed the feeling as best she could before nodding to the Knight. Cass gave him a smile and they started walking back toward the tavern, in the opposite direction to where Cass had originally planned on going. It seemed that it was her turn to try and spark a conversation between them.

"So, erm, did you find anything interesting when you were scouting earlier?" she asked.

He shook his head, more strands of dark hair falling in front of his eyes. The deep, brown eyes that Cass couldn't help but want to stare into at this point in time.

"The Woads are being quiet recently," Tristan answered simply.

"Is that a bad thing?" Cass asked, her brow creasing.

His lip twitched, and his head tilted to the side. It was as if he had to consider his reply, as if there was something he was unwilling to say.

"Depends. It means no fighting."

His answer made Cass wonder whether _he_ even knew if he thought no fighting was a good or a bad thing. Tristan's face became as unreadable as it usually was. Cass guessed that he'd not say anymore, that he'd have answered her if he was willing. The thought that nagged at her now though, was that she _wanted_ him to have answered her. Like she_ wanted_ to know more about the quiet Knight who'd rescued her.

They arrived at the tavern to find that only Galahad and Gawain were seated at the table in the corner. Cass was almost disappointed that they were there; though she covered it with a smile to the seated Knights. The three men nodded to each other in greeting. Grins appeared on Galahad and Gawain's faces, and they remained as Cass and Tristan took their seats.

"Is there something funny?" she asked, her eyes darting between the two men.

Gawain smirked at the girl, and replied, "Embarrassed already today, are you?"

Cass looked at the Knight confused, and then realised what he meant. Her cheeks flushed an even darker red, their colour renewed by Gawain's mention of her blushing.

Eventually Cass managed to say, "Oh, come on, Gawain. I can't do anything about this."

She gestured to her face before continuing, "That's hardly fair."

"Who said friends were fair?" he said with a laugh.

Cass shook her head, though not failing to notice that he'd said the word 'friend'. She smiled anyway, trying to brush off the blush that she hadn't been able to get rid of since she'd bumped into Tristan outside her room. She was distracted though, when Vanora placed some food before her; a piece of crusty bread. Again, not what Cass would call breakfast, even if she was getting used to it.

When the group had finished eating, Tristan was quick to leave. Cass watched him get up and walk from the tavern, the glint in his eye catching hers before he turned away. She sighed; the feeling in the pit of her stomach only starting to calm after he was gone. _Is that... because of Tristan?_ she thought, wondered, to herself. She shook her head from the thought, confused by it.

"We're going to do some training, care to join us?" Gawain asked the girl.

Cass looked up at him and nodded. The three of them started from the tavern almost immediately, Cass' eagerness to train leading them on. However, Galahad stopped at the intersection between Cass' room and the gates of the Fort.

"Are you... Do you need to change?" he asked, a sense of awkwardness in his question.

Cass bit her lip, then answered, "Decidedly; no. I need to learn how to do things in a dress as well as trousers, I think."

Gawain frowned, "Why would you do that?"

Cass shrugged and replied, "I don't know, perhaps it'll be fun. A sort of... challenge."

"To each their own, I guess," Galahad replied as they set off walking again.

The two Knights already had their weapons, and everything they'd need to train. And Cass had her sword. She'd have been happy to have just practiced alone, resuming her skills in swordplay; but, as they reached the top of the hill, she realised that the Knights weren't going to let her get away that easily.

Galahad had somehow managed to convince a reluctant Cass to give archery another try. So she stood in the position he had shown her in their last training session and sighed, ready to pull back on the bowstring when she heard Gawain's voice from behind her.

"Careful not to get any more bruises!"

Cass lowered her bow and turned to the long-haired Knight, her face bright red once more.

She glared at him, and said, "It's probably a really bad idea to annoy me when I'm supposed to be aiming this somewhere. You've seen me with projectiles!"

Gawain's eyes widened in mock fear and he raised his hands as if to surrender. She nodded and turned back to the tree Galahad had asked her to aim for. Cass got herself back into position, her mind still conscious of the two Knights watching her. The arrow she released pulled to the left, flying far from her target. _Tristan said that I pulled to the left..._

She huffed as she pulled out another arrow and stood in position once more. Cass tried to remember to shoot how Tristan had shown her; by using the appropriate strength to pull back the string. Focussing her eyes completely on her target. Holding her breath. Releasing her breath with the arrow. Hitting the target. _Hitting the target? I JUST _HIT_ THE TARGET!_

Cass' elated expression was clearly evident on her face as she turned to the two men. They smiled back at her, offering their congratulations- even if she had _only just_ hit the tree. _Only just_, was better than not at all.

"Now you just need to do that... every time," Galahad grinned.

She frowned at him.

"Can't you just let me have that small victory?" she asked in a pleading tone.

Galahad and Gawain shared a look before replying simultaneously, "No."

Cass sighed and rolled her eyes at the two men. They really were like brothers- the only thing now was that they were like _her _brothers; the annoying, teasing brothers she'd never had.

After refreshing the skills she'd learnt with Gawain on fighting with axes, she was 'allowed' to practice with her sword. Mercifully (Cass thought), Gawain didn't make her try again with daggers- though he did joke about her throwing shoes instead. The result being that she actually threw her shoe at him; though, of course, she missed him by miles.

The small group headed back to the Fort as dark clouds started to roll into the already greyish sky. The weather may have started to turn sour, but Cass' mood was definitely the opposite. She was fairly satisfied with how she'd performed when training with Galahad and Gawain. First of all, she'd actually hit the target with an arrow; on her own. And Secondly, Cass had managed to hold her own, for about five minutes, whilst fighting both Knights at once. Their vast knowledge and expertise when it came to fighting though far outweighed her own however; the Knights knew her vulnerability in that area and had used it against her, separating her sword from her hand.

Cass separated from the two men at the place where Galahad had stopped them earlier, telling them that she'd meet them later in the tavern. Cass went to her room and placed her sword back into its position on the table. _There, the room looks complete again._ At her thought, she laughed to herself. _How strange are you Cass? Honestly... The room looks complete, what are you some sort of interior decorator? Even having that thought makes me sad..._

"You've got to stop talking to yourself," she said, shaking her head and muttering a contradiction to no one but herself.

**Author's Note:** Firstly, let me apologise for the wait for this chapter, there are a couple of reasons, one being that I've got loads of sixthform related work to do, another being that I had a tremendously awful case of writer's block and didn't want to update unti I had something worth updating with. =]

Secondly, I'd like to say thank you again for all the reviews and views! Because, you know, the more reviews I get, the more I want to write- therefore the updates get quicker. =] (Feel free to ignore the "Please review!" line I just gave, I just really appreciate the reviews I get, they make my day. =])

And, er, yes- if there is anything you think I could improve on, please don't hesitate to let me know- a bit of constructive criticism never hurt anyone! =]

Oh! And again, some stuff from this chapter had to be moved to the next one... I think it'll all be right again after that. Here's hoping! (yn)


	18. Conflicting Emotions

Cass ate her dinner with the Knights quite quickly; she knew that the tavern was getting busy because people wanted shelter from the rain. _I'll have to help Vanora soon or she'll be overwhelmed_, Cass thought as she took a final bite of the dinner Vanora had brought over for her. Vanora really did mother Cass, though Cass didn't really mind. Vanora reminded Cass of her mother, who always used to insist on feeding her daughter, even when Cass had offered to cook. She sighed, her thoughts turning to wonder what her mother was doing right now; perhaps reading a book by the fire, or cooking a meal for her husband. Perhaps wondering where her daughter was.

Her nostalgic thoughts continued to bother her mind as she placed her fork on her plate with a small _chink_. Cass remembered when she and her mother used to sit together in front of the fire, just reading. Her mother had her romance novels, but Cass had her fantasy and historical books. That was where her interests lay- back in a time where people believed in honour, and had real ideals. It was almost ironic how she'd half-despised the time she was born into and yearned for the world from her books; but when she got there, she could not forget her own world. Her parents.

Cass stood up, and, taking her plate in one hand, walked over to the bar in an attempt to block out thoughts of her parents. Work always helped to block out pain. She met Vanora at the bar; the woman looked slightly ruffled, a sight Cass had never expected to see. Vanora gave a grateful smile to Cass as she saw her pick up a jug and get straight to work. The heaving tavern was a busy as Cass had expected- it was about as packed as New Year's Eve in the restaurant she had worked in at home. _Imagine what this place would be like on a special occasion_, she thought, hoping she'd never have to work during one, though knowing that she would.

As the night drew to a close, and those who had so filled the tavern started to disperse, Cass found herself at the Knights' table once more. She was tired now, having spent about six hours manoeuvring through a claustrophobic, compact crowd of people, carrying plates of steaming food, and large jugs full of whatever alcohol it was that they were demanding. Cass just wanted to go back to her room and have a good long sleep. She wouldn't, of course, leave Vanora to work alone. She felt quite bad about how much time she'd spent training with the Knights instead of helping Vanora.

Liquid flowed from the jug in Cass' hand into Bors' cup when a hand briefly touched Cass' arm. She finished pouring the drink and looked around to the Knight that sat beside where she now stood. Lancelot held up his glass to her and she started to refill it.

"I could have sworn that I just filled your glass," Cass said, almost disapprovingly.

Lancelot shrugged, with a small smirk replying, "I think I'd remember that, don't you?"

"Not with the amount that you've apparently drunk tonight," she said dryly, remembering how many times she poured a drink for him in the last couple of hours.

There were sniggers from the Knights who'd heard her comment. Cass lifted the jug after filling his glass, making a mental note that she probably shouldn't give him any more to drink tonight.

"So," Gawain began, his voice edged with a slight slur.

"How many of us have you drawn so far?"

Cass blinked at the question and looked around at the faces of the seated Knights, considering Gawain's question a reasonably random one.

"Four," she replied quietly.

"I only have Lancelot, Arthur and Tristan left to draw."

Gawain nodded slowly, an odd smile appearing on his face. She waited a while to see if anyone would say anything in response; when they didn't, Cass continued.

"I'm not sure how I'm ever going to manage to draw Arthur though, since I hardly ever see him."

Her problem was solved when Lancelot chipped in from beside her, "He does seem as eager to avoid your charcoal as our scout."

Lancelot and Cass' eyes trailed over to the Knight, who sat in his corner, cutting slowly away at tonight's apple. Cass smiled slightly at the truth in Lancelot's words, remembering how he'd disappeared before she could draw him; Galahad must have told the other Knights about it. He stared back at Lancelot, his face a mask.

"I'll tell you what, how about I corner Arthur tomorrow, and get him to come into the tavern so you can draw him."

Cass smiled at him, "Thanks Lancelot."

She turned her eyes on the other Knights and added seriously, "Though only if all of you promise not to try and look at what I'm drawing."

Gawain clapped a hand to his chest and put on an expression of feigned outrage as he said, "What, us? What makes you think we'd try to look?"

"Hey- I've got your number," she said with a glare.

The Knights looked at her, confusion crossing some of their faces.

"What are you talking about?" Gawain asked through the almost bemused smile on his face.

Cass paused, realising her mistake, and mumbled in reply, "Oh, never mind. Just please don't try to steal the picture."

She left the Knights after half-forcing them into promising they'd not even try to look at Arthur's picture the next day. Cass walked back to her room by the light of the moon and the stars. The darkness and the eerie semi-shadows that it cast created an unfamiliar atmosphere. Cass was used to walking back with at least one of the Knights, or at least passing the occasional flaming torch outside many of the buildings lining the street. Tonight was different though; it was late enough for the welcoming lights to be put out. Cass shivered at the strange darkness around her, not wanting to feel the closeness of the air around her anymore.

Cass hurried to her room, the different experience of this midnight journey playing on her mind. She pushed her door closed quickly as soon as she'd got inside. A sigh escaped her lips. She'd decided that didn't like the dark that much anymore; so much had changed since the last time she was alone, out walking in the dark. It made her nervous. She didn't want things to change again- even for as much as she missed her home; her family. Cass just liked it here too much to want to risk losing it.

_And that makes me an awful person,_ she thought as she readied herself for bed, slipping once more under the covers and into a deep sleep.

Cass was awoken the next morning by a knocking on her door. Grimacing, she rolled out of bed, half ready to murder the person behind the door for waking her from such a nice sleep. Today was one of those days when Cass just _didn't_ want to get up. At all. She had refused to let even the sunlight that beamed through her window wake her this morning, having scrunched her eyelids shut to block it out. Cass couldn't ignore the knocking though, however much she might have wanted to.

She swung the door inwards and looked through bleary eyes at the Knight before her. His eyebrows rose and a smirk graced the face of the curly-haired man as he saw the disgruntled girl, wearing only her underwear and the long black vest she'd worn the day that she'd arrived at the Fort in, stood before him. Cass followed his gaze and, as soon as she noticed what she was wearing, she slammed the door on him, her cheeks tomato red. That certainly woke her up.

A torrent of swear words rippled through her mind as Cass scanned her room. Her eyes found her training trousers strewn over the back of the chair in the corner of the room. She pulled them on quickly, yanking them over her feet.

Once more fully clothed, Cass took a breath, bracing herself for whatever Lancelot's reaction would be. She opened the door again slowly and tried to keep her face expressionless. Lancelot laughed at the sight of the now properly clothed girl, and her blush darkened. _I'll never know how Tristan can mask his feelings so easily_, she thought as her failed attempt to mimic him turned into a scowl.

"Don't even comment," Cass said; her annoyance at her own stupidity for answering the door when wearing so little rising rapidly.

Lancelot, still unable to dispel the smirk from his face, opened his mouth to speak, but closed it when he was met with an almost murderous glance from Cass. He seemed to change his mind about what he was going to say and instead looked to the door at the end of the corridor.

"I thought that you might want to go train. If I'd have known you'd have been... Sleeping, I would have waited a while longer."

Cass noted that his pause was purposefully placed, and she bit her tongue to stop herself replying, almost frowning at him once more. She didn't though, as his suggestion of training brightened her morning significantly.

"That'd be great," she answered, with a small smile.

"It's a bit cold; you might want to dress," he paused, almost for long enough that Cass thought he was finished.

"Warmly," he added finally.

She slammed the door on him again, rolling her eyes as the blush on her cheeks darkened. Finding her training shirt where her trousers had been, she threw it over her head. Cass picked up her sword and belted it around her waist, assuming that a sword would have something to do with what Lancelot would want to train her in.

Though Cass knew quite a bit about sword fighting, she'd admit any day that the Knights' skills were far superior. Learning from them would only make her better.

Following her usual routine, she did up her boots and pulled her trousers back to cover them once more, before grabbing her art supplies. She opened the door to Lancelot for the third time that morning; this time fully clothed.

"It's funny," Lancelot said, with a half-smile as they started walking towards the gates.

"What is?" Cass asked curiously.

"Oh, just that every time I've seen you this morning you've been wearing just that little bit more clothing-"

Before he could finish, Cass elbowed him in the ribs.

"Third time lucky?" he added, this time dodging her pointed elbow.

She refused to talk to him until they'd reached the training hill, until after he'd apologised profusely. After a while, Lancelot tried to explain himself, admitting that his personality had just adapted that way when he came to Britain, it was a method of coping. Cass looked up at him and saw that he didn't even appear to be speaking to her, but more to himself. A small frown crossed his usually smooth and cool face.

He dismissed it and launched straight into training Cass, withdrawing first another sword and handing it to Cass. She took it, and, as he unsheathed both of his own swords, Cass understood what he was going to teach her. How to fight with two swords at once.

Cass bit her bottom lip nervously as he swept through some movements; motions of the two swords being used almost as if they were a team. The thing Cass wasn't quite sure she could wrap her mind around was the fact that she'd have to control two separate things at the same time. Multitasking had never been her strong suit. She couldn't even force her hands to knit, how could she do this? She exhaled. First projectiles, now this.

Cass took a deep breath, deciding that she'd better just suck it up and try her best. Initially, as she tried to copy Lancelot's movements, she found that as she concentrated on one sword, the other slipped from its place. She frowned, her teeth almost bruising her lip as they dug themselves in. Fortunately, Cass seemed to quickly pick up on how to control her swords, thanks to some advice from Lancelot. She seemed to improve quite quickly after that, eventually even sparring with Lancelot for a while. Cass could tell that he was going easy on her though and asked if they could take a break.

"You're actually quite good," Lancelot said, as they sat down beside _Tristan's Tree_.

"I hear you're becoming quite good at everything you've been learning."

A small blush dyed her skin a pink colour. _Stop blushing Cass_, she ordered herself, _You never blushed this much in the 21__st__ Century. Though you also never hung around with a group of men such as the Knights in the 21__st__ Century,_ she reasoned.

Cass picked up her last piece of charcoal, reminding herself to get some more as soon as possible. As she was about to begin drawing, Cass heard Lancelot speak up.

"I suppose you'll have a hard time choosing my good side," he said smirking at the girl.

She looked up and replied sarcastically, "Oh no. However shall I cope?"

He made a face at her, which she returned by sticking out her tongue at him. Lancelot smiled to her, grinning at their childlike humour. Cass started to draw quickly then, as if her inspiration had struck like lightning. She noticed that, when she drew Lancelot's eyes though, she almost had a hard time getting them right. Almost had a hard time capturing what it was that lurked behind them. Cass had a feeling that it was full of intrigue, whatever it was.

When she was finished, she looked up at the Knight and then back down to her picture. Lancelot really did suit black and white. The other Knights too. _What I wouldn't give to be able to photograph them! _she thought, almost letting out a groan as she tried to dismiss her wish. Cass would just have to forget about photography now.

"Done," she said.

"That wasn't too bad. I was under the impression that you were going to make me sit here for hours."

"Now who told you that?" Cass asked.

"Gawain," he replied, the corner of his lips upturned.

Cass rolled her eyes and, with a smile, she said, "Well, _he_ would! I remember him complaining about it after I'd drawn him."

Lancelot and Cass sat together for a while, overlooking the swaying grass field between them and the Fort. The wind quieted a little and the grass calmed to make only gentle, almost unnoticeable, movements.

"Do you miss your home?" Lancelot asked quietly, his tone almost regretful.

Cass turned back to him, her eyes meeting his. She thought about the question for a moment before answering, using the moment to pull her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around them.

"Yes," she mumbled.

Clearing her throat, she continued, "I do. Very much... I just... Never mind."

Lancelot tilted his head at her; one eyebrow rose as a signal for her to continue. She noticed and looked away.

"I... Well, I miss home. I miss my family. My friends... It's just..."

Cass paused again, appearing, Lancelot supposed, to be fighting some inner battle with herself.

"I like it here more," She replied finally, her voice a whisper.

Her eyes closed at the shame of her last statement. _You're a horrible person. How can you like it _here_ more than your _home_?_ she thought, after finally admitting her feelings to someone. Cass didn't want to open her eyes for fear of how Lancelot would look at her after admitting that. Would he think she was stupid? Ridiculous? Pathetic? When she did open her eyes tentatively, Cass was surprised to see that Lancelot wasn't even looking at her.

He simply said, "Why is that?"

She blinked, after a while replying, "I never felt _right_ there. I was always wrong for the time... Or rather wrong amongst the people of the time. They don't care about anything worthwhile anymore. It's all about money. Superficial things. In my time, people don't even kill each other honourably anymore; it's just point, shoot, hit, death. There's no skill, but mostly, there's no reason behind their fighting. There it was like everything I believe is wrong. No one understood... I was alone."

She took a breath and continued, "But here I'm not alone. I don't know what it is... I just feel like I belong here."

Throughout her speech, Lancelot had looked out over the field in front of them, his face a mask of passive emotion. A silence stretched between them, Cass immediately regretting even saying anything. He turned to her eventually, and nodded.

"I understand," he said simply, though not entirely truthfully.

Lancelot had listened to her words, trying to get to grips with how anyone could prefer this Hell to their home. He had answered the way he had done for one reason though; he sensed the truth, the sincerity, behind her words and the guilt that was plaguing her voice as she admitted her feelings. He sensed that Cass had needed to hear him say that, or moreover, needed his acceptance of her words. Lancelot heard her let out a long breath and she rested her forehead on her knees.

"I'm sorry. Forget I said anything," Cass said after a while, regretting even mentioning her conversation-killing feelings, her voice slightly muffled by the curtain of hair that hung in front of her face.

Lancelot dropped the subject; she looked like she was punishing herself enough for her own truths- he didn't need to add to it, and he knew that if he had continued, that would be exactly what he'd be doing.

"How about we get something to eat?" Lancelot asked, trying to bring her thoughts away from their current slump.

Cass said nothing for a moment, and as she eventually lifted her head from her knees, she nodded to the Knight. Lancelot stood first, helping Cass to her feet. He grabbed the extra sword he'd brought, whilst Cass picked up her discarded paper, still keeping Lancelot's picture hidden. They walked back to the Fort in silence. Cass didn't really want to speak, and Lancelot just left her to her thoughts.

She and Lancelot parted ways once inside the Fort as Lancelot went off somewhere that Cass hadn't really listened to him mentioning. She went straight to her room. Slamming the door behind her, Cass put Lancelot's picture with the others and threw herself onto her bed. A few tears escaped her scrunched-closed eyes as she lay, unmoving over the crinkled cover.

Cass wasn't sure how long she'd lay there, but she knew that it wasn't a short time. She couldn't even seem to force herself to move. She just knew that she hated herself for what she'd said, what she thought; what she felt.

A knock at her door disturbed her thoughts. Cass ignored it; _If I don't answer, then I'm not here..._ Her plan was good; up until the point where she heard her door creak open and the sound of footsteps walking towards her. Cass looked up through her still slightly watery eyes, and saw Lancelot just as he sat down beside her on the edge of her bed. He was frowning at her.

Lancelot placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice quiet as he said, "It's alright, you know. How you're feeling."

Cass shook her head, muttering, "No. It isn't..."

"Yes, it is," he replied more firmly.

"But... No, I'm a horrible person. How can I want to stay here more than I want to see my parents, to go home?" Cass asked, a wave of guilt sweeping over her, bringing a fresh bout of glistening tears to tease her eyes.

With his other hand, Lancelot took hold of hers, and grasping it tightly he said, "You're not a horrible person, Cass. You're not."

He paused and added, "You're always welcome here, Cass, you know. None of us Knights would turn you away. The choice is up to you whether you stay though. We'll try and help you to get home if that is what you chose."

Cass merely stared at him.

"Choose what feels right for you- not what you think anyone else wants you to do."

He left her then, closing her door behind him. Her thoughts entangled in a swirling knot. Lancelot's words reverberated through her mind as she considered things. Cass slowly pushed herself out of bed, forcing herself to change into a dress. As she slipped the fabric over her head, one thought popped out. _Lancelot's right. Choose what's best for you._

_Stay_, a voice whispered in her mind's ear. Cass sighed, tormented by the choice that faced her. She loved life at the Fort. It suited her. And home would go on without her. Cass realised where this argument was leading her and paused as another thought surfaced. _You don't even know _how_ to get home, even if that _was_ what you wanted._

That thought was it. All she really needed for the moment. Cass could live life now, how she wanted. She'd only have to make the decision to return home if the opportunity ever arose. Who even knew if it would?

Cass made sure her eyes were dry, and took a few deep breaths before picking up her paper again, and heading out to find some more charcoal. She quickly found it, deciding that next she would find Lancelot, to thank him.

In the tavern, she found all of the Knights, and even their commander, seated in the corner table. Cass smiled at them in greeting, receiving smiles in return. Her eyes locked with Lancelot's and she mouthed, "thank you," to him. He nodded, accepting, as she took her seat, that Cass had decided to stay- or at least, did not blame herself for how she felt so much anymore.

Cass perched in her seat, though far back enough so that none of the Knights could see her work, and began to draw Arthur. Before she had started, Arthur had tried to get out of having his picture done, making stupid excuses such as that he wasn't technically a Knight and that the set of pictures should be just of them. Arthur had stood no chance with that argument; each of the Knights, and even Cass, had dismissed his words, each Knight revealing a snippet of how they felt about their commander- more like their friend.

The picture of Arthur took Cass longer than Lancelot's had, though she put it down to the inconvenient lighting. Bad lighting made everything harder. Cass thought that she finished the picture quite well, especially considering Arthur and the others kept moving around while she was trying to concentrate.

"Well," she smiled to Arthur.

"I'm finished."

He returned her smile and nodded to her in thanks. Cass looked around the tavern for the first time that night. It was not busy at all. Cass heaved a sigh of relief as she left the Knights' table to find Vanora. Cass met the woman and asked if it would be alright if she went back to her room now. The red-haired woman nodded to Cass, a mother-like smile crossing her face. Cass didn't understand, but nodded gratefully to the slightly older woman.

As Cass turned to leave, she went back to the Knights' table, to wish them goodnight. She started walking back to her room quickly again. It wasn't dark this time; she just wanted to be back in her room. She felt almost totally emotionally withdrawn after her conflicting emotional breakdown she'd had earlier that day.

"In a rush?"

Cass turned at the sound of Tristan's deep voice beside her. At least she didn't hurt herself when he'd surprised her this time. _That's always a plus_, she thought. Cass shook her head to the silent, stealthy Knight who always seemed capable of sneaking up on her. Her heart beat fast, the initial shock of his voice still taking its effect.

"It's just been one of those days..." Cass replied with a shrug.

He nodded. Conversation between the pair stopped for a while, until Cass remembered something that she'd wanted to tell Tristan earlier.

"Oh, guess what," she said with a smile.

Tristan turned to her, giving her a look that told her he certainly wasn't going to have a guess.

She continued anyway a hint of pride in her voice as she said, "I managed to hit a tree with an arrow yesterday. All by myself."

A glint flashed in his deep, brown eyes, and his mouth curled into a small smile. The pounding in Cass' chest got harder as they did. A thought hit Cass then, harder than the thumping of her heart. _Is that... because of Tristan...?_ She said nothing after that, not sure if her thoughts were leading her astray. But as Tristan held the door to the building that housed their rooms open for her, the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach rose again. Cass thanked him and went to her own room, feeling that his eyes remained on her until she disappeared behind her door.

_How cliché,_ Cass thought, _Blushing? Butterflies in the stomach? A fast-beating heart? You're in too deep Cass. You can't turn back now._ And in her heart, she knew she was right.

**Author's Note:** Hi guys, just thought I'd give you an update on the drawing front, as Cass now only has one Knight left to draw- I'm being a little crap at the moment. I have to spend most of my time writing essays at the moment, so I haven't been able to do many (Bloody A level exams in January!). :/ I'll keep working on them though! I have this weekend to do as many as I can (I think anyway).

Oh, and just because a few people have mentioned this now- I've been purposefully holding back on Tristan's thoughts. I'm afraid you guys will have to wait 'til either chapter 20 or 21 for that. :)

Kit xx


	19. Staring Into Darkness

That morning, Cass was not woken by a knock on her door, but once more by the sun streaming into her room, illuminating the dust in the air as floating particles. Cass watched them drift through the air in the light of her room for a while, letting her eyes adjust to the morning's brightness. Eventually, Cass sat up, swinging her legs from her bed. The floor beneath her feet was cold. She sensed a morning frost again; though after she'd dressed and gone outside, Cass discovered it was not so.

There was only a cold chill to the air, a cold chill that made Cass glad that she had worn the cloak that Lancelot had told her to buy. The day was an odd one; a blue sky stretched as far as Cass could see, littered with fluffy blots of cotton wool-like clouds. It didn't look as if it should be cold, but the wind that whipped through the air, curled Cass' hair into rippling tendrils, waving in the breeze. She shivered, clutching her cape to her for warmth and to stop it flapping wildly behind her.

She walked into the wind. Its force pressured her face and Cass frowned as she tried to squint though it. She breathed a sigh of relief as she entered under the shelter of the tavern and found a few more people that felt the same. Cass' thoughts turned to the Knights, and she noticed that they were not there, and neither was Vanora. _It's not too early. They should be awake_, she thought.

Cass frowned as she went over to the bar, ducking under its wooden top. She crouched and saw what she was looking for; the basket containing Tristan's apples. Cass' eyes trailed them, and settled on a bright green apple. _Tristan won't mind_, she thought hopefully. _Or he won't know anyway... _Her fingers curled around the fruit and she pulled it free of the basket as she would pluck it from a branch.

Standing again, Cass leaned against the bar top, resting her elbows on the counter. She looked at the apple for a moment and then took a bite, sinking her teeth through its crunchy skin. As the juicy liquid burst into her mouth, she closed her eyes, grinning into the taste. It was one of the sweetest apples she had ever tasted, and she ate apples quite a lot back at home. _No wonder Tristan likes these so much..._

When Cass was merely half way through her apple, she noticed Arthur walk into the tavern. His eyes met hers and he walked toward her. Cass smiled.

"Morning Arthur," she said quietly to the half-Roman, half-Briton commander that would be king.

Arthur nodded to her, a question waiting behind her eyes.

"Morning Cass."

He paused before asking the question that had marked his intention on coming over to Cass, "Have you seen Tristan this morning?"

Cass blinked and shook her head.

"You're the first person I know that I've seen this morning," she answered with a shrug.

Arthur frowned, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Why? Erm, did- did you need him for something?"

He nodded, replying, "We've got to go east. The Woads are being... disruptive."

"Oh," Cass said, her voice almost a whisper.

"Well... Tristan does pretty much always come in here for breakfast... Erm, maybe you should wait for him?"

Arthur considered Cass' suggestion for a moment, and bobbed his head to her. He took a seat on one of the stools beside the bar and asked Cass if she'd mind getting him a glass of water. She smiled as she fetched him a glass and poured it full of full of the clear liquid.

"Thank you, Arthur said, giving the girl a polite smile.

After taking a gulp of his drink, he continued, "I know it must be hard for you in a new... place, so I am sorry I haven't been around recently. I've had to investigate some things and look over some plans."

Cass smiled again and said, "It's okay. The Knights have been very welcoming."

The corner of Arthur's lips turned upward into a sideways grin as he said, "Yes. I've noticed how you and they get along well... In all the years I've known the Knights, they've never agreed to train anyone before."

"So I've heard," Cass replied quietly, remembering the conversation she'd had with Gawain.

She looked at Arthur, and tilted her head to the side as she said earnestly, "Arthur, thank you."

His blue eyes half portrayed his confusion, so Cass elaborated.

"For letting me stay. For everyone being so kind. It's just... Thank you."

Arthur looked at her for a moment, studying her face. As he opened his mouth to respond, he stopped. Arthur stopped when he saw Cass' eyes turn to his left and a smile grace her face. On turning, Arthur saw Tristan walking toward them, his face passive. Tristan nodded to the other two in greeting, and received nods in return whilst walking over and leaning against the bar top.

Cass ducked down under the counter again and reached out for an apple for the Scout's breakfast. She was also hiding momentarily from the pink tinge that had surfaced on her cheeks, and tried to quell the heat that had warmed them. Cass heard the muffled voices of the two men from where she was, and used the moment to ensure the pink flush had left her cheeks. _How can he make me blush by just being there? That's just stupid..._ she thought, almost chastising herself.

As she stood, Cass held out the apple to Tristan, who did not take it until after Arthur promptly stood and left. His hands cupped hers as he lifted the apple from her grasp. She felt their rough skin brush against her fingertips.

Cass felt the blush burning on her cheeks again as he said, in his quiet, accented voice, "Thank you."

His deep brown eyes, held a spark that twinkled more brightly than the glint that Cass had seen before. She nodded as she watched him leave the tavern; and she remained, as usual, mystified and confused by the quiet Knight. Cass stared for a while in the direction Tristan had disappeared into. She shook her head from her thoughts, considering that Tristan may not actually be the type of person _to_ be understood. She sighed; it seemed he would always be a mystery to her- even if it was possible to understand him.

With nothing else to do, or no one else to talk to, Cass busied herself with work. Getting food and drink for the somewhat windswept customers was easy that morning. The gusty breeze had seemed to quiet their usually rowdy nature. She much preferred them when they were calmer; they were less likely to make her feel uncomfortable that way. It wasn't long before Vanora entered the tavern, her face twisted into a frown.

"Hi Vanora," Cass said with a small smile.

She tilted her head to Vanora and added quietly, "Are you okay?"

The woman before her shook her head, and replied, "The Knights just set off on a mission and Bors didn't tell me."

Vanora's eyes sparked with the note of anger in her voice.

"They left already?" Cass questioned, surprised.

Vanora looked over to her, surprise transfiguring the features of her face; her eyebrows in particular rising with the emotion.

"_You_ knew?" the woman asked, a tone of what was an almost-anger plagued her voice.

Cass paused for a second and answered, "Only because- Arthur came looking for Tristan. He mentioned it, but I, didn't think that they'd leave so soon."

Vanora's eyes softened, and she nodded.

Cass watched as the pretty red-haired woman walked passed her muttering, "I'm going to _kill_ Bors when he gets back."

Cass chuckled at Vanora's remark and followed her back to work. Her thoughts remained on the Knights for the rest of the day and she worked hard as an attempted distraction. Even after Cass had returned to her room and lay down to sleep, she could not take her mind off the Knights. It seemed that the more she got to know them, the more worried she became when they left the Fort on any type of mission.

Her dreams were plagued by the faces of the Knights; red and bloody. Images of carnage and death struck a blow to her heart. Cass woke screaming; though there was no one near to hear. The building was empty save for her. Cass' heart pounded and the last images she'd seen in her disturbed nightmare replayed in her mind's eye.

_A hawk circling in the smoky sky above him. The final blow of a sword slashing his body. Blood spraying like rain drops to stain the earth. The light leaving his eyes as he smiled into death. Screaming _-Her screams as she sat bolt upright in her bed.

Cass tried to calm her breathing, tried to convince herself that it was just a dream. Something in her mind told her that she'd seen that happen before though. She shivered at the odd sense of déjà vu that she could not place. _Impossible,_ she thought. _Tristan's not dead. He's not. It was only a dream._ But Tristan was not even in the Fort, and Cass had no way of knowing if he was alright or not. It was the same for the other Knights. All she could do was hope that her dream was wrong; hope that all of the Knights would return safely.

Cass did not even try to go back to sleep, knowing that her dreams would take her back to her fears and the gruesome images they had brought. Instead she slipped out of bed and into one of her dresses. It was still dark outside and Cass threw her cloak around her shoulders, expecting the weather to be harsh, its air and bitter wind as cold as it had been earlier.

She had been correct about the weather. Almost. The wind was still blowing gustily, the air was still a freezing chill. She had not expected the rain that fell in torrents, the wind blowing it more sideways than directly to the ground. She looked at the rain for a moment, before heading back to her room and taking off her boots and cloak. She needed them dry, because she had no replacements for them. But she also needed to get outside.

Cass stepped out of the building, letting the rain trickle down her face and soak through her clothing. She looked skyward, smelling the air and the scent of British rain. Her hair stuck to her face in wet, rippling strands and she swept one back with a cold finger. Her feet were already cold and wet, but Cass dismissed her discomfort, enjoying the feel of the rain washing down her skin.

She walked through the Fort; avoiding the puddles she could see, splashing drenched, bare-foot footprints into those she could not. She met no one on her way; no one was stupid enough to be out in the rain at whatever time it was in the morning. Cass went to where she'd only been once before; to the top of one of the Fort's walls. The one that looked east. She climbed the steps, disregarding any fear of heights that she had. She needed to do this for her own peace of mind.

Cass placed her hands on the brick wall before her, taking a deep breath before willing herself to look out. It was pointless though. If it wasn't impossible to see because of the heavy rain falling in front of her eyes, the darkness blocked out any visibility. Cass stood for a while, staring in the direction that the Knights had left. A sigh escaped her lips.

"Please be okay," she whispered to the whistling wind.

Cass remained unmoving until the rain lessened; the wind too had died down, though the darkness still surrounded her like an eerie veil. She frowned, deciding to go back to her room before any Roman soldier on patrol walked passed and saw her sopping wet and shaking from the cold. As she walked back, her feet numb with cold, Cass realised how stupid she had been to walk out into the wind and rain. _Knowing me,_ _I'll probably get pneumonia for that..._ she thought, chastising herself.

Inside her room, Cass found that the bitter cold from outside was blocked away, the walls barring its entrance. She stripped from her clothes, peeling the material back from her skin and draping the sodden dress over the back of her chair. Cass lay down on her bed, letting her hair fall across her pillow to dry at its own pace. Her body curled up under the cover, snuggling into the warmth it enclosed. Cass stared into the darkness above her. _I've been staring at the darkness a lot tonight_, she thought as she exhaled.

However angry she had been with herself for staying out in the cold, Cass didn't regret going out. She'd needed to. She'd faced her fears. She'd been out alone in the darkness; she'd stayed at some height for quite a long time. And she'd willed the Knights to come back safely.

Cass frowned as she closed her eyes, knowing that she'd just have to wait until the Knights returned. Her hoping and willing them to return might mean nothing though. It hit Cass that how she felt now- a haunting dread hanging over her that something bad might happen to the Knights- must be how Vanora felt. How she feels every time the Knights leave for a mission. A new wave of sympathy washed over her for her beautiful, red-headed friend.

Cass had never really considered how bad Vanora must have felt, especially when, like the day just passed, Bors hadn't even told her he was leaving. She must have been so angry, but so scared. Never knowing if her lover, her friends, would ever come back from wherever they'd gone. Cass buried herself under her cover. She wanted her friends to come home.

Cass awoke to a greyish light streaming through her window. _It must still be cloudy._ She was grateful that after her midnight outing, she didn't feel unwell, only having a slight sniffle. But more than that was that she was grateful that she had had no more dreams of bloody Knights. A shiver crept up her spine as she remembered her dream. _They'll be fine_, she repeated, over and over again in her mind.

The next day passed too slowly for Cass' liking. Work in the tavern was slow. So slow that she excused herself and went to the training hill, taking with her two daggers, her sword, a bow and a quiver. She began with her sword, the weapon she was most comfortable with. After her usual training exercises, Cass sheathed her sword and stared at the other weapons she'd placed beside _Tristan's Tree_. Eventually, she picked up the bow and quiver of arrows. _I stand more of a chance with these than the daggers... _she thought.

Cass managed to hit the tree she was aiming at almost every time she let go of the bowstring. That surprised her. She was much better than she had been before, though the arrows were dotted all around the tree, she had not yet managed to hit the exact point she was aiming for.

After training, Cass went back to her room and left her weapons there. She checked the dress she'd worn when she went walking that morning. It was still slightly damp. She sighed and picked up her black dress instead, changing into it. Cass headed for the tavern next, just in time for people to start piling inside for the normal dinner rush.

Her moments to rest were spent consumed by her thoughts on the Knights, still wondering if they were alright. But when Cass' thoughts _were_ distracted from the Knights, she was not happy about it.

She saw him enter the tavern and as soon as he noticed her, she averted her eyes. Cass had thought the Roman would come back eventually. _He just _had_ to come back when the Knights were away,_ she thought with a scowl crossing her face. Vanora served the Roman, just so Cass didn't have to deal with him. Her face was masked as she did, but to Cass, it clearly betrayed her veiled dislike- Vanora clearly remembered the Roman as well as Cass did.

His searching, grey eyes remained on Cass for the entire night, watching her work, or even just watching her stand with Vanora beside the bar. Cass wanted to hide. Just duck down behind the bar and hide from him. She knew, however, that she just couldn't do that and so held her ground. Cass wouldn't let him know that he bothered her. Or she'd try her best not to let him know.


	20. Worries And A Happy Night

Another night was spent; her sleep interrupted with bloody images of her friends' faces, and her screams echoing once more through the empty rooms of the building. _They're not dead. They're _not_ going to die,_ she thought as she sat up, resting her head in her hands.

_It won't be like this every time they're away... Will it...?_ Cass wiped away a tear that had trickled down her cheek and took several deep breaths. Deep breathing seemed to calm her down a little. She couldn't continue like this, she'd have to talk to Vanora about it.

Cass forced herself to stay in bed until the daylight that flooded into her room had brightened significantly. She had not even tried to sleep again for fear of what her dreams would bring. Cass pushed herself out of bed, dressing slowly, and finally, as she pulled her cloak around her shoulders, she left for the tavern.

Her eyes were tired, though had not yet gotten to the puffy stage that a lack of sleep would bring; and Cass had to squint as she left the building; sunlight shone low in the sky as if aiming to blind. Another bout of rain had been and gone overnight, but by now its traces had all but disappeared, only leaving behind a few puddles as a reminder that it had even been there. The cold chill in the air remained though. It was nearing winter, and, as Cass walked along her usual route to the tavern, she found herself remembering the central heating she'd had in the 21st Century. _That_ she might miss soon enough.

At the tavern, she found Vanora already working. She smiled at the busy woman as they met at the bar, who grinned back.

"Happy birthday, Cass," Vanora said in a kind voice.

Cass blinked. _My Birthday? _She had completely forgotten about her birthday; her insecurities about the Knights' safety had been dominating all of her thoughts. Cass was eighteen. Officially an adult in her own time. She wasn't sure what difference it made here- if it even made a difference- though Cass thanked her friend, who gave her a motherly hug in response.

After some time working, Cass worked up the courage to ask Vanora about how she coped when the Knights were away. She had been unsure of how the woman would take her question, or whether it would hurt her too much to think about what may or may not have happened to the Knights. It hurt Cass enough; but she could only imagine what it must be like for Vanora considering Bors was her lover _and_ father to her children.

Vanora's eyes searched Cass' face for a moment, as if she was struggling to find the right words, and she replied finally, "You just have to... get on with things."

She placed a comforting hand on Cass' shoulder and smiled softly to the girl she half treated as a daughter and half treated as a friend.

"They'll come back. I've never known anyone to fight as well as they do," she continued, her voice laced with the same self-reassurance that had been lining Cass' thoughts.

Cass nodded, refraining from revealing her suspiciously déjà vu-like nightmares of blood and death to the woman. Cass _had_ seen pain streak across the face of her friend when she had mentioned her worries for the Knights and saw that they shared a common fear; Cass didn't need to give Vanora anymore to worry about.

It neared midday when one of Vanora's children ran into the tavern, a young girl around five years old who was wearing a grey hat. She was almost out of breath, seeming to Cass to have been running fast for a while.

"Mummy... Mummy, Daddy's back!" the girl squealed between breaths, a childish gap-toothed smile on her tiny face.

Vanora's eyes met Cass' and they smiled, both of them almost immediately abandoning their work at the tavern and rushing after Vanora's daughter. They followed the little girl, Nine, to the gated courtyard, where they found Vanora's other children, pressed up against the metal bars. Cass followed their gaze and saw the Knights inside the courtyard.

She found each of their faces in turn; faces covered in dirt; dirt and dried blood. Cass took a sharp and sudden gasping breath as she realised that one face was missing. Her heart almost stopped; her head whipping around, trying to find the missing Knight. _No. No, no, no, no, no. It was just a dream. A dream. He's not..._ She couldn't find him anywhere.

"V-Vanora," she choked in a whisper.

"Where's Tristan?"

The woman looked at Cass, her face forming a frown.

"...He's fine... If anyone... dies; the Knights always bring them back... Besides, the other Knights look too happy for anything bad to have happened. See?" Vanora answered, gesturing to the Knight's almost pleasant expression as she attempted to calm Cass.

"But- but he's not here... He should be here, right?" Cass asked, her tone still brimming with anxiety.

Vanora shrugged, unable to explain the quiet Knight's absence, even more unable to understand why the girl was still getting so worked up about it. Cass looked again at the dismounting Knights. Vanora was right. They _were_ far too happy for anything bad to have happened. But then, where _was_ Tristan? Had he been hurt? _No, they're still too happy for that to have happened..._ she reassured herself. She could not think properly.

A noise from behind her startled her, and Cass' head snapped around quickly to its source. She almost jumped backward as she came face to face with Tristan's horse, the very creature that she was very sure did not like her. Her eyes met those of its rider and her tense muscles relaxed slightly. _It _was_ just a dream. He's fine,_ she thought, though this time she knew she was right; there was no need for self-reassurance.

Tristan simply nodded to the two women as he dismounted and Cass felt a stab of annoyance. _He makes me almost have a panic attack, and all he can do is nod? NOD?_ Cass scowled and walked away quickly, leaving Vanora and the Knight, before Tristan could even open his mouth.

He stared after her, confusion filling the deep, brown eyes on his usually well-masked face. Tristan turned to Vanora, looking to her for an explanation. Vanora's eyebrows rose as she saw Cass leave, and they remained so as she looked at the Knight.

Vanora shook her head, "She's _not_ happy with you."

Tristan's eyebrows creased into a frown, and he asked simply, "What?"

She sighed to him through pursed lips and answered, "Maybe you should ask her."

As Tristan opened his mouth to respond, Bors appeared, bursting out of the courtyard to find his lover. Tristan turned away from them, wiping all traces of emotion from his face as he headed to the courtyard to find Jols. Behind him, he heard a slap, followed by an apology. Tristan almost smiled at the interaction between the Knight and his lover; they did that almost every time that the Knights returned from a mission.

The other Knights nodded to Tristan as he walked through the small, barred gates, guiding his horse behind him. The creature nudged him as he handed the reins over to Jols and Tristan looked at the horse. It eyed him curiously as he stroked its muzzle.

"First Vanora, now you. What is it you want me to do?" he muttered, so quietly that only his horse would hear.

Tristan's horse was led away from him, toward the stables, and the Knights disappeared into the building, heading to their meeting room. Tristan paused. He _could_ follow the Knights inside, but his thoughts turned to the small girl he'd found in the forest and her odd reaction upon seeing him. He turned in the direction that Cass had walked off into, looking passed Bors and his family.

Tristan tracked Cass to the eastern wall of the Fort. She was standing where she had been in the rain the other night, looking out over the field before her. Cass didn't notice him approach her until he appeared at her side. She jumped when she saw Tristan and straight away turned her head away from him. Neither said anything for a long time.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Cass did nothing for a moment, and then nodded slowly. She _was_ okay; though she wasn't sure what had come over her before, or what it was that had made her walk away from Tristan when he returned. She was just embarrassed about what she'd done. She had been so stupid, and was now so angry with herself.

"Sorry about before..." she whispered, her cheeks flushing red from embarrassment, so much so that she still wouldn't turn back to look at him.

Tristan stared at the back of her head, at the perfectly-formed ebony curls, unsure of what to say.

"I didn't... You weren't there, and I... I thought something bad had happened..." Cass continued; shaking her head so that her long hair fell even further in front of her face, blocking it more so from Tristan's view.

"And then you were there... and I... I'm sorry... I was just... worried," she finished lamely.

Tristan tilted his head and frowned at the girl. She continued to confuse him, just as she had when they had first met. Silence echoed between them once more and, eventually, she heard a sigh escape his lips. Cass wouldn't turn to look at him though; her cheeks were still too red.

"I'm... sorry I made you worry," she heard his deep voice say quietly from behind her.

Cass blinked and whipped around to face him, only to find that he was already walking away from her, his cloak billowing behind him in the slight breeze. She stared after him in wonder, biting her bottom lip. _What? Did he just...? Why?_

Cass had not been expecting him to say that. _Why would he?_ she thought to herself, considering that she assumed that she'd just been acting stupidly and had overreacted. _After all_, she reasoned, _he has no idea about the dreams I've been having, or even that I care as much as I do_. Cass still wasn't entirely sure why she _did_ care as much as she did.

She stood for minutes, her eyes fixed on where she'd seen Tristan disappearing around a corner, thoughts streaming through her head. Then she sighed and started to walk back to the tavern. Cass could not decide what to do about what had just happened and decided, instead of dwelling on it, to do as she seemed to do a lot at the Fort when she had something on her mind; bury it under her work.

As she arrived in the tavern, Cass saw the Knights and Arthur in their usual corner table, already laughing and drinking. The other Knights did not see her, but Tristan's eyes looked up and found hers immediately. She stopped; their eyes locked together, and felt her cheeks rouge as he held her gaze. She stood there until she could bare it no longer. Cass gave the Knight a small nod; a signal that everything was alright once again. He returned it, and a small smile formed on Cass' face as she walked over to the other Knights.

"Seems like you're all having fun," Cass said, as she appeared behind Dagonet.

He turned around grinning at her as the other Knights said, laughed and, in Bors' case, yelled greetings to Cass. She smiled at them. _Back to normal_, she thought, hoping that that also meant that she'd get a normal night's sleep again.

"Is there anything I can get you?" she asked with a small laugh.

Before any of the Knights could respond, Cass felt two hands upon her arm. She jumped and turned her head; her face turning red as she realised it was only Vanora. The woman smiled at her and shook her head.

"There's no way I'm letting you work tonight," Vanora said, pushing Cass into her chair.

Cass opened her mouth to argue with her, but was interrupted by Gawain's voice, "What's she done this time, Vanora?"

"I haven't-"

"I bet she broke something," Lancelot put in.

"Oh yeah, sure-"

"Another Roman's nose?" Bors laughed.

Cass blushed and said, "I didn't break his nose-"

Vanora rolled her eyes at the Knights and said, "_No._ It's her birthday."

Cass had no time to say anything before she felt a large hand clap against her back. She winced forwards slightly, and turned to see Bors chuckling at her. She heard some of the other Knights wish her a happy birthday, but her eyes searched for the quiet Knight's, who merely stared back at her, the glint in his eye present once more.

"I forgot about that!" Galahad exclaimed.

"It- it doesn't matter-" Cass tried to say, but was interrupted once more.

"No, you did mention it," Galahad persisted.

"Honestly, it doesn't matter," Cass said, her cheeks a shade of crimson in response to all of the attention focussed on her.

"I _want_ to work, Vanora."

That statement was met with a brief silence, and an outburst of laughter from all of the people around the corner table.

"Yeah, _right_," Gawain said sarcastically.

"Come on, Cass. Enjoy yourself for once," Lancelot teased, smirking at the girl.

She frowned at him and folded her arms, realising that she was just going to have to stick around through all this attention. Cass leant back in her chair as the other Knights laughed at her.

"Vanora, my love, I think this calls from some drinks," Bors said as he wrapped an arm around his lover.

They kissed, their lips meeting passionately before Vanora wriggled free of his embrace and over to the bar. Cass sat beside Dagonet quietly, unsure of how to act in response to being invited to join the Knights' drinking. Vanora brought over a jug full of ale and an extra glass for Cass, pouring it until the glass was full. Cass took a small sip, more to be polite than because she actually wanted to; and Gawain looked at her incredulously, his eyebrows rising, as she did.

"Oh, come on! I think we all remember that you _can_ drink, so why aren't you?" he asked, staring at the small girl.

Cass' face twisted into a grumpy frown and she stared back at Gawain. _He's right though, _she told herself_. Just enjoy yourself. It is your eighteenth birthday..._

"Do we have to make chicken noises at you again?" the Knight continued.

Cass rolled her eyes and took a deeper drink. _At least drink enough to stop them nagging you,_ she thought as she drank. And drank. And after a few more glasses of ale down their throats, and a lot of joking and laughter, Arthur stood up.

He raised his glass as he said, "Knights; I think, as it is Cass' birthday, we should raise our glasses to our new friend from... far away."

Cass blushed a deep red colour as all of the Knights, _including_ the quiet scout who'd been sat in the corner cutting away at an apple and only drinking slowly, raised their glasses in a toast to her. Cass' resolve to not drink so much quickly dissolved as she started to enjoy herself. She felt like she really was part of the Knights little family- admittedly, at that moment, a reasonably _drunken_ part of their family- but it was as if she was always meant to be here with them.

Cass didn't remember much of what had happened in the latter part of the night, after an innumerable amount of drinks. But when she woke up in the morning and found that she was still fully clothed, she had no idea how she had got back to her room. Had she just wondered back and got into bed without changing?

Cass only vaguely recalled something that she could have sworn was a dream; being carried in someone's arms back to her room, and his making her drink a glass of water before letting her sleep. _An odd dream,_ she thought; though she could not dismiss the fact that she was safely in her room, and that she had woken to a head throbbing not as much as it should have been.


	21. Falling Is Not Flight

She sat up slowly, carefully trying to ensure that her head didn't start to spin. She needn't have worried though, as she spotted the almost empty glass placed on her table. The liquid that remained was clear; it was the water she had thought she drank in her dream. _Then that wasn't a dream_, she thought. _So who brought me back here?_

Running her fingers through her hair, Cass pushed it back from her face, leaving the inky curls to fall straight back into place again. She sighed and swung her legs off the bed, to stand on stiff legs. Cass stripped from the dress she had slept in and stood for a moment in the cool air as it caressed her bare skin. She yawned, and eventually pulled on her red dress.

_I should find out who brought me back here..._ Cass thought as she tied the laces of her boots. Standing again, Cass drew her cloak around her shoulders and left her room to an empty corridor. She assumed that she was awake much later than usual as when she walked outside, into the mild-temperatured, blue-skied day, there were plenty of people in the street.

It was a different story, however, when Cass reached the tavern, expecting to find the Knights at their usual table, and instead found only Dagonet. He waved a hand to Cass when he saw her near the tavern and she took a seat next to him. A small, deep laugh came from the Knight next to her, and Cass turned to look at him quizzically.

"You know, you seem to have a better recovery rate than most of the Knights," he said with a sideways grin.

She smiled at him and shook her head, answering, "Not really, but someone made me drink a pint of water before I slept last night."

Dagonet raised an eyebrow as he looked at her and asked, "Someone?"

A hesitant expression crept onto Cass' face along with a cheek-darkening blush, as she grudgingly admitted, "Er... Well, you see... I can't remember who it was."

He laughed at her; his sideways grin remaining on his face. She wanted to scowl at him, but she had to admit that it was pretty pathetic that she couldn't remember who brought her back to her room the previous night.

When he stopped laughing, Dagonet said, "Too much to drink?"

Cass shrugged and made a face at him, her cheeks becoming a slightly darker shade of red, which he took to mean a yes. Her answer only made him laugh at her again. She didn't really mind Dagonet's laugh; it was soft, more like a chuckle. Like the rest of the Knights, his laughter was never malicious. She didn't mind the laughter, but she _was_ curious as to who it was that had brought her to her room.

Her voice interrupted his laughter, "Are you just going to laugh at me all day or are you going to tell me who took me back, so I can go and thank them?"

Dagonet nodded, and eventually replied, "Tristan took you back to your room last night. He never quite gets as affected when drinking as the rest of us."

Cass blinked and tried to force back the blush that threatened at the thought of Tristan taking her back to her room; _carrying_ her back. She almost groaned when she thought of what she could have said to him after she'd had too much to drink. But she refrained, and instead asked Dagonet if he knew where Tristan was. She felt the need to thank him for making sure she arrived at her room safely, and for making her drink the water that had saved her from probably the worst hangover she'd ever have had.

"Out scouting again," Dagonet answered with a nod.

"Right," she said, standing up.

"You'll never find him," Dagonet added warningly as Cass began walking from the tavern.

"I can only try," she half-shouted back to him as she left.

Cass left the tall Knight at the table and turned her mind onto her next to impossible task; finding the scout. _How can I find someone who's so good at not being found?_ she asked herself.

She soon found herself wandering to her room before she would even attempt to find Tristan. Cass strapped her sword around her waist, and walked to her door. As her hand grasped the door handle, she paused and glanced behind her. Cass walked back to her table, picking up the paper and charcoal that lay upon it. _He _is_ the last I have to draw... At least I'll be _able_ to draw him if I do find him. Better than finding him and not being able to, I suppose..._ Cass thought, nodding to herself and leaving the Fort to try and find Tristan.

Outside of the gates, Cass looked around and saw nothing, no one. She scanned the floor for any sign of tracks. She saw nothing. Cass cursed herself for not being able to see anything, though reasoned that Tristan was not one likely to leave traceable tracks behind him. She let out a long sigh and made up her mind to start by following the wall in one direction.

It became clear quite quickly that she would be better trying to find a needle in a haystack than Tristan in... wherever he actually was. Cass decided that she'd try again in the other direction, and set off back for the Fort. It occurred to her that she may have missed him completely and that he may have returned to the Fort, but Cass dismissed that thought and continued anyway.

When she made it back to the Fort, she looked out to the grassy field directly in front of her. She could see from where she was, almost exactly what she would see if she continued; a whole lot of grass and not much else. Cass made a change in her plan, and instead of walking the way she had planned, she trekked up to the tree-line of the forest that Tristan had found her in. She found herself at the base of a very tall, but very climbable, tree.

She placed her things at the bottom of the tree, using her sword as a paperweight. Cass took a deep breath, steadying herself for the task of climbing the tree. _If you get to higher ground, you may be able to see him._ Cass kept that thought fixated in her mind as she started to climb, trying to distract herself from her other prominent thoughts; namely, slipping and falling. After a lot of shaky-leggedness, Cass had climbed half way up the tree to a good sized branch. She wondered if she should try to climb higher, but on glancing downward and realising that she was up higher than the Wall, she decided against it.

Cass stayed sat on the sturdy branch; her legs dangling to one side, one hand on the trunk of the tree to steady herself. As she looked out, Cass' fingers dug into the bark more, her fear of falling sticking with her. She realised that the Fort was bigger than she had initially thought, that the fields and trees surrounding her were beautiful- even if their leaves had started to fall. Though her most notable realisation, was that she was _not_ going to be able to find Tristan.

She sighed. _I must have missed him... I'm sure he'll be in the tavern later. _Cass made up her mind to go there straight away; perhaps she _would_ be better off waiting for him to come to her. The problem she had to solve next though had immediately become top of her priorities list. _How in buggery-shitting-Hell am I supposed to get down?_

Cass frowned. Looking down was one thing. _Climbing_ was completely different. She _had_ thought that she had just conquered her fear of heights, but the thought of climbing _down_ terrified her. When climbing up, one could see where their hands were going, but when climbing down, one has to place their feet. _It's as bad as doing it blind_, she thought, her eyes wide and phobia-filled.

As she was about to steel herself to look again, Cass saw something fly passed some of the nearer trees. A bird of prey, she guessed. She saw it again, almost as if it was circling her. The third time the animal reappeared, Cass saw that it was not, in fact, circling her, but headed straight for her. She flinched as it neared, eventually landing on the branch beside her. The bird, which Cass now saw to be a hawk, landed so close to her, and her flinch was so great, that Cass lost her balance.

She slipped backward, leaving a fingernail trail engraved in the trunk of the tree. Her scream pierced the air as she fell, and thoughts flooded her mind- too many to even distinguish between them. Cass tumbled in a downward spiral. Her scream stopped. She held her breath.

In an instant, she hit the ground.

Not only the ground though.

As she had neared the ground, Cass had closed her eyes, not wanting to look at the grim fate that awaited her. If her eyes _had_ been open, Cass would have seen the man standing at the bottom of the tree; the man that had seen her falling and had been ready to catch her. Tristan _had_ caught her, though the sheer force of her fall had pulled them both to the ground, the small girl on top of him.

Tristan looked at the girl resting over him and his brow creased. He wasn't sure if the unmoving girl was unconscious or not. Moments passed before Cass finally moved; the hand she had on Tristan's chest curled into a fist, bunching the material of his shirt. He saw her turn her head, eyes still closed from when she had fallen.

Slowly, Cass' eyelids fluttered open, and when they focussed on Tristan and her hand clutching his shirt, her eyes widened. Cass pulled back immediately, her cheeks turning a peculiar shade of puce. She pushed herself up unsteadily, and saw the Knight stand too; all expression wiped clear from his face as he did.

"Tristan, I am so sorry... I, er..." Cass began apologetically.

"...Thank you," she finished quietly as her eyes searched for his.

Tristan nodded, more strands of his dark hair falling before his face, making it harder for Cass to find his eyes. Neither said anything for a while until Cass finally let out a small laugh.

"You know, I was actually looking for you to thank you; and, now I find myself thanking you for something else..."

He tilted his head and looked at her almost questioningly.

She continued after the pause between them, "For taking me back to my room last night. And making sure that I drank that water."

She took the glint that appeared in his eye for the briefest of moments to mean "You're welcome", though he said nothing. Cass absentmindedly looked down at her arm and saw a plum-sized section of her skin turning blue. She sighed as she touched a finger to the suddenly coloured patch of her flesh. It hurt, but it wasn't as bad as she knew it could have been, especially if Tristan _hadn't_ been there. Cass looked up again and saw Tristan staring at her arm; something odd in his expression brought on by the almost-frown darkening his face. Cass felt her cheeks burning again, though she wasn't sure why.

"It's... just a bruise," Cass said slowly, taking her hand from her arm.

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak. He said nothing though, as an interruption came in the form of the bird that had frightened Cass out the tree. She stepped backward, accidentally pushing herself back into the tree as it flew toward them. The hawk, however, was not actually out to get her as she had thought, but instead landed upon Tristan's outstretched arm. Cass stared at the man and the bird in amazement.

As Tristan took a small strip of meat from his pocket and began to feed it to the hawk that he then proceeded to stroke, Cass said quietly, and confusedly, "That hawk's yours?"

Tristan looked up and shook his head, his deep voice replying, "No. She's free.

Cass blinked, confused even more by the fact that the bird would so readily fly to him if it was free. Before she could ask, Tristan continued, surprising her with an extremely un-Tristan-like elaboration.

"She had a broken wing and I helped her heal. She's stuck with me ever since."

The corners of his lips turned into a small smile as his fingers stroked the bird's feathery breast. Cass watched them in wonder for a while as the bird eyed her suspiciously. She could tell now, after watching them; that the hawk was his companion. Where all the other Knights had another Knight, Tristan had her. Both quiet, both solitary, both deadly; and it seemed, both had a knack for startling Cass. Tristan gestured for Cass to come forward. She blinked and shook her head.

"Oh- no, it's okay, I-"

"She won't hurt you," he said softly, though Cass was unsure if he had meant to say that to the bird or to her and stayed put.

"Tristan, she just scared me out of a tree, I don't think she likes me too much," Cass replied, the pink tinge appeared on her cheeks as she remembered the fall that caused her to land on top of the Knight.

Tristan shook his head and took a step toward Cass, who had nowhere to go since she was already backed up into the tree. _I hate this tree_, she thought to herself as Tristan brought the hawk closer. He took hold of her hand with his free one, sparking another deep blush to erupt onto her cheeks. Tristan guided her reluctant hand to the bird and placed it against the bird's breast, his rough fingers gently keeping hers in place.

The hawk tilted her head at Cass, predatory eyes boring into her as if she was passing judgement. Suddenly, making Cass jump, the hawk let out a loud, distinctive cry. Tristan allowed Cass' hand slip away this time, sensing her discomfort as the bird had; he did not move back from her though. Cass looked at the pair as she half-pressed her back into the tree; they really were like two parts of a whole, as real friends always are.

"Erm, Tristan?" Cass said, working up the courage to speak again when so near to the hawk.

His eyes turned to her.

"I... Well, I was going to ask if you'd mind me drawing you... But... if she'll stay, I could... draw you both..." she suggested.

Tristan paused, considering her idea.

He nodded after a minute, and said quietly, "If she stays."

Cass smiled at him, asking if he'd sit down so that she could draw him. Tristan did as she asked and Cass slid down the tree to the ground next to Tristan and the hawk. She picked up her paper and charcoal and then looked at the subjects of the picture not yet begun. Cass paused, studying the light as it hit Tristan's face; how it hit the hawk's dark feathers. She outlined the picture, drawing the basic image of the Knight and the bird.

Tristan seemed not to want to talk as she drew, and contented himself with stroking the hawk on his arm. There was a long silence that sat between the three, interrupted only by the whistle of the wind and occasional rustling of the trees.

Cass didn't realise how hard it would be to draw Tristan, and she had only made the task harder for herself by adding the hawk to the picture. She had to admit though, when she had finished, the picture was one of her best. Almost as soon as she had told Tristan that she was finished, the hawk took flight. Both Cass and Tristan watched her fly away until she was lost in the trees. Cass smiled at Tristan.

"She's beautiful, Tristan," Cass said, sincerely.

He turned his gaze back from the sky to the girl that was leaning against the trunk of the tree, holding the finished picture to her chest. He gave her a small nod and looked out to the field between them and the Fort, an unreadable expression on his face.

"She's free," Tristan said to the wind.

Cass said nothing, but mentally noted the regretful tone in his voice. She was left no time to dwell upon his response though, as Tristan stood almost immediately. He turned back to Cass and held a hand out for her. She stared at his hand for a moment before she took it, feeling her face turn red as his hand closed around hers. Tristan pulled her to her feet and it seemed, to Cass, a long while before he released her hand. It was as if they were suspended in time with her hand in his. Though in actuality, it had been only moments that he had had hold of her, his eyes meeting hers.

"I- I should probably head to my room; you know, to put this with the others," she suggested, gesturing to the picture at her chest when he let her hand slip from his.

He nodded and waited for her to pick up her sword and strap it around her waist before they began walking. She smiled and set off across the field, walking quietly beside the Knight. She found herself looking at her feet a lot during the walk back, occasionally avoiding particularly muddy patches of earth. Tristan raised his eyebrows enquiringly at her as she did.

She sighed and answered the question in his expression, "I only have three dresses. I don't _really_ want to get them horrifically dirty if I can help it."

The guards on the gate seemed to recognise Cass now, as each day they took less time to decide if they'd let her into the Fort or not. But, as Cass was with Tristan, the gates opened almost as soon as they arrived in front of them. No Roman would ever consider not letting the quiet, Sarmatian scout into the Fort. Cass smiled slightly at the thought of what Tristan would do if they didn't let him inside. _There'd probably be a few dead Romans,_ she surmised.

As Tristan and Cass walked into the Fort, something caught her eye. Or rather, someone. She inhaled quickly, her breath stuck in her throat. The Roman who had tried to kiss her. He was staring at her again. She tried not to look at him. _Can he not just fucking _stop_ that?_ Cass thought as her fists clenched. She and Tristan walked closer to him and she turned to her left, about to ask the Knight if they could change their route.

He wasn't there, however. Tristan had moved to her right without her even noticing. He stood now between Cass and the Roman, though she was _sure_ that Tristan had not known that _that_ was the man she was so worried by. Cass looked at the Knight beside her, and saw that his face was impassive.

She became certain that Tristan knew though, when he placed a hand upon her back and almost ushered her passed the Roman. Cass stared at the floor, a huge sense of relief washing over her and leaving behind a cheek-staining blush. It was as if he'd stepped between the Roman and her _and_ made sure that nothing was said between them, on purpose. _But why would he do that?_ She dismissed the thought, convincing herself that any of the Knight's would have done the same, had they been with her. It was in their nature.

But the hand that stayed on her back until the Roman was out of sight, made her half wish that she was wrong.

**Author' Note:** So, just a note, I won't be posting the next chapter until I've completed all the drawings- I'm very behind. =/ So apologies for the wait, but at the moment the only Knights I've drawn are Gawain, Dagonet and an outline of Galahad (whose beard, might I add, is being extremely difficult right now. :/)

Oh, and some random news, I had a snow day yesterday and so when I got back in from nearly killing myself and some random people (if you want to know, just ask), I ended up writing about two pages of a chapter that I had not intended to write.. You'll probably be able to guess what chapter it is when it's up by the snow.. :P I may use it as a one shot, later actually..

Kit xx


	22. Happiness Is Short Lived

"Thank you... for everything," Cass said as she smiled and left the Knight standing by the door to the building that had basically become her home.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that his eyes were on her until the door was closed. Cass' hand went up to her mouth and she fingered her bottom lip as she tried to block away the smile she'd left Tristan with. She didn't know quite why she _was_ still smiling, but she knew it had something, or everything, to do with the time she'd just spent with the quiet Knight.

After closing her bedroom door behind her, Cass unstrapped her sword from around her waist and threw herself onto her bed, burying her face in the cover. She sighed into the folded material under her. _What _did _just happen?_ Her mind mulled over her encounter with Tristan.

Firstly, the fact that he'd saved her once again- he never seemed to stop saving her. And when she'd opened her eyes lying on top of him, she'd blushed, and as she remembered, she blushed once more. The thing that niggled at her was that before she'd opened her eyes, and before she had known that she was lying on top of Tristan, Cass had felt incredibly comfortable- bar the slight injuries she'd gained in her fall.

She turned her thoughts away from that moment to how Tristan was with the hawk. Seeing them together had made her smile. The hawk was most definitely Tristan's perfect companion, and Cass remembered how Tristan's lips curled into a smile when he stroked the bird's breast. _It's nice to see him smile; he doesn't do it often enough_, she thought.

The thing that had most surprised her though, was what Tristan had done when they had come across the Roman. How he had stepped between them. And his hand on her back that made her blush just thinking about it. _Was he being... protective? Trying to ward off any 'ideas' that the Roman might be having? Or...?_ Cass scrunched her eyes closed into the material that bunched at her facial imprint in it; convincing herself that she was just overanalysing the situation.

Cass pushed herself up and sat for a moment, cross-legged, atop of her bed. She idly fiddled with one of her long, dark curls, wrapping it again and again around a finger as she tried to shake off the unknown feelings she was having regarding the Sarmatian scout. Cass let out another long sigh as her thoughts led her to believe that Tristan really had just been doing as the other Knights would have done. There was nothing else there. And her feelings, no matter what they really were, would forever go unuttered.

The girl stretched her legs and clambered off the bed, turning to where she'd hidden the Knights' pictures. Cass laid them out beside each other on her bed; all seven pictures. The set was complete. She felt a smile grow as she looked at the faces of each of the men she'd gotten to know, each of the men that had accepted her into their makeshift family.

A knock on the door tore her from her thoughts.

"Just a minute!" Cass called through the wooden door, as she desperately tried to gather the pictures into a pile.

Once the pictures were safely hidden under Cass' pillow, she walked over to, and then opened, her door. In front of her stood Dagonet. She blinked and then smiled at the Knight.

"Hi," Cass said.

Dagonet smiled back at her, and when he noticed the bruise on her arm, he said, "Are you alright?"

Cass followed his gaze and blushed out of embarrassment. She didn't really want to explain her bruise; but she knew that the Knight wouldn't let her not explain it. She at least _tried_ to get away with dismissing it though.

"Oh, _that_. It's nothing."

Dagonet's suspicious stare that followed was unrelenting and almost forced Cass to continue. Even though it meant that her blush darkened.

"Erm, well..."

She sighed.

"I sort of... _fell..._ out of a tree," she finished, trying to avoid Dagonet's eye as he started to laugh.

Cass folded her arms and waited for the tall Knight to finish laughing.

When he did, he said, "Sorry. But why were you up a tree anyway?"

"I was looking for Tristan actually- who I _found_ by the way," Cass answered in a gloating tone as she tried her hardest to avoid the subject of her _landing_ on top of Tristan and to mask the blush that threatened along with that revelation.

Dagonet nodded, still smiling at the girl before him.

After a short silence, he said, "I was just going down to the tavern to meet the other Knights. We decided we'd eat early tonight. I thought I'd let you know, in case you wanted to join us."

Cass blinked and after a short pause replied, "Actually, that's pretty perfect. Erm, is Arthur going to be there?"

Dagonet raised an eyebrow at her as he nodded.

She smiled and continued, "Good; because I've finished my part of the bargain; and I think it's about time I let you all see the drawings I did of you."

It was Dagonet's turn to blink. His small smile evolved into a full on grin, the likes of one Cass had rarely seen Dagonet give.

"Well then, we should go now."

Cass smiled at the Knight's eagerness, and was once again reminded of how much these pictures actually meant to Dagonet and the others.

"Just give me a second to get them, okay?" Cass asked as she went over to the corner where her black bag had been stuffed, and emptied its contents slowly.

She carefully placed the tubes of paint that she'd almost forgotten about on her desk, making a mental note to save them for something special. When all the paints were removed from her bag, Cass heard something else _clink_ from inside. She reached inside, her fingers groping around in the dark bag until they grasped around the object. Her car keys.

She'd forgotten about her car keys. Forgotten about the key ring she'd had on it for so long. Cass paused for a moment as she stared at the key ring she'd always thought was silly. It was one her mother had forced her to get; a tiny picture of her family inserted in a plastic case. She'd always thought it was silly; but seeing the picture now made a tear slip from Cass' eye. She missed them so much, and now she held a reminder of them in her hand. Her used-to-be-silly key ring had just become one of her most prized possessions.

"Cass?"

Dagonet's voice broke her from the trance the picture had put on her. Cass hastily wiped away her fallen tear and turned to the Knight. She saw the concerned expression on his face as he saw that her eyes were still filled with prickling tears.

"I'm alright. I just found something in my bag... It's a picture of my parents," Cass said, her voice quivering in a way she had not expected.

Dagonet sighed and looked, still uneasily, at her.

"I'm really okay. I'd just forgotten how nice it was to have something of them with me," Cass continued, a small smile gracing her lips.

She clutched the picture in its plastic case tightly in her palm, and walked over to her pillow. Careful not let Dagonet see any of the pictures she quickly swapped them with the key ring, and slipped them inside the black bag.

"Right," Cass said, nodding her head and joining Dagonet at the door.

"You're sure you're alright?" he asked, stopping her from leaving.

"I'm fine," she answered honestly.

In truth, she was fine. The key ring had given her something of home. Something to hold onto.

The first part of Cass and Dagonet's walk to the tavern was spent in silence, until the Knight asked, "So how _is_ it that you managed to get Tristan to sit down so you could draw him?"

Cass blushed, a voice in her mind telling her that he'd only laugh at her once more if she told him the truth.

Instead, Cass simply shrugged and said, "I guess he must have just been in a good mood today."

They reached the tavern soon after her reply and Dagonet took his seat with the others. Cass stayed standing though; ready to speak to all of the Knights. She wasn't really paying attention to most of the Knights at first though, as her eyes settled on the scout sitting in the corner, cutting away at an apple with the same small knife he used every night. Tristan's eyes found hers and she blinked away, looking around the other Knights. She found most of their faces turned to her already.

Cass fought back a blush at the attention, and said, "Well, this is pretty good timing really."

Most of the Knights gave her quizzical looks; only Dagonet smiled as he knew what she was going to say next.

"I've finished the pictures."

The confusion on the Knight's faces turned into an eager expectancy, smiles appearing on several faces. Cass risked a glance at Tristan and saw no smile, but only a tilt of his head and that familiar glint in his eye as he looked at her. Cass passed out the pictures to that of their likeness, in the order that she had drawn them. Gawain. Dagonet. Galahad. Bors. Lancelot. Arthur. And finally, Tristan.

There was silence for a moment, each of the Knights taking in what Cass had drawn, but it soon erupted into a loud boom of chatter, and each picture being exchanged. Each picture but the one in Tristan's hand. His face was unreadable as he looked at he and the hawk, immortalised in a charcoal drawing. Cass barely caught a glimpse of this though, as she found herself wrapped in someone's arms and lifted into the air in a spin. When she was released, Cass saw that it had been Bors who'd spun her around. She blinked as the Knights began to thank her.

"_That_ is amazing," Bors said, grinning at the girl.

"For once, Bors is right," Lancelot added, smirking as he received a joking glare from Bors.

"Thank you; really. They're better than anything I think any of us ever hoped for," Gawain said, beaming at Cass.

Cass smiled at the Knights; overjoyed that she could make them so happy. They convinced her to sit down with them, and they ate together, the mood of the corner table as cheerful as Cass had ever seen it. When the Vanora had cleared away the empty plates, and after the Knights had displayed, and bragged about, their pictures to basically the whole tavern; they began to drink.

That was when Cass excused herself. She felt the need to go for a walk, to leave the Knights to their drinking. She also wanted to leave them to their thoughts as she wanted to be left to hers. She felt the need to go for a walk to clear her head.

As Cass walked though the Fort, she found herself at the gates. The Romans on guard let her through this time almost immediately, and she smiled to herself as she walked into the field beyond the open gates. Cass glanced at the sky. Its colour a deep blue; it was still bright enough to see the tree line in the distance and the moon's pale and bright tinge to everything its glow touched. Cass walked on, letting the soft breeze caress her skin and run its fingers through her hair.

She hadn't meant to walk there, and though she'd only been there once before, when Cass saw the bright colours- even through the growing darkness- she knew she'd walked to the graveyard. She stopped and looked at the few flickering flames atop of some of the mounds. She hadn't known the place could be more beautiful than she'd originally seen it, but in this midnight blue light, reflections from the half-buried swords glinted and sparkled.

A thought hit Cass as she stood, looking over the striking graveyard before her. She was outside, alone, at night. She had promised herself never to do that and inwardly cursed herself for forgetting and being so stupid. _Why did I even come out here?_ she thought as her brow creased into a frown. Cass didn't know why she'd walked out so far on her own, but her thoughts had clearly not been focussed.

Cass turned to go back to the Fort, but stopped immediately. All colour disappeared from her already pale face. She couldn't even blink as she stared at the two men before her. She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn't even heard them approach.

Cass cursed herself again, as she looked at the face of the man who had so many days ago tried to kiss her. She had managed to avoid him for so long, and now it came to this. Cass gulped, unsure of what was going to happen, and just stood there, unable to move. It was the Roman she knew who spoke first.

"Fancy seeing you out here," he said, raising his eyebrows at her.

Cass said nothing.

"You know," he continued, this time speaking to the Roman beside him.

"The last time we had a conversation, she almost broke my nose."

"Conversation? What about what you tried to do was a conversation?" Cass interjected disbelievingly.

"Oh, I see what you meant. She _is_ feisty," the second, shorter Roman said.

Cass' fists clenched, and she stared between the two men. _Where is this going?_ she asked herself as they started to move a little closer to her. Cass took a step backward. They both sounded as if they'd had a fair bit to drink, but then, Cass considered, that's when some people are at their most dangerous.

"What I don't understand though; is why this little darlin' would rather be with those Sarmatian barbarians than a Roman officer."

"Yes, call them barbarians when you're the one that tried to force me to kiss you. How gentleman-like," Cass said sarcastically, not knowing quite where she'd pulled the courage to say that from, but knowing that it probably wasn't wise to have started provoking the Roman.

A spark of anger flashed across his face, and the Roman she'd punched continued as he moved even closer toward her, "Listen, you whore! First, you punch me, now you insult me. Big mistake. And don't think I didn't see you with that _scout_-" he spat the word.

"It's _disgusting_," the shorter man chipped in.

Both men were far too close now for Cass' liking and she stumbled backward again. She reached for her sword, only to remember it wasn't there. As the Roman who so clearly harboured a grudge reached out for her, she did all she could think to do. Cass threw a punch in his direction. This time, her fist did not make contact, for the shorter Roman caught her arm and refused to let go.

"Get off me!" she shouted, trying to free herself from his grasp.

She tried kicking out at both men and felt a wave of satisfaction as her foot collided with the groin of the man holding her. Cass heard him groan in agony, and her hand was released. She had no time to revel in her small victory though, as she felt a large hand shoved against her mouth, completely covering it. And she felt herself pushed to the floor, the heavy body of the Roman on top of her. And she couldn't get him off her.

Cass couldn't even scream.

**Author's Note:** Yeah, you guys can hate me for leaving you on a cliff-hanger. :P Sorryyyyyyy... I promise, my next update will be soon; I shan't leave you hanging for too long. :P

Oh, and, my drawings are taking forever, but since I said I'd reveal them when Cass does, here are those that I've finished. :)

(Just remove the spaces for the links)

Gawain: http:/ princesspomegranate. deviantart. com/art/Gawain-185953404?q=gallery %3Aprincesspomegranate %2F6499951&qo=6

Dagonet: http:/ princesspomegranate. deviantart. com/art/Dagonet-188470831

Galahad: http:/ princesspomegranate. deviantart. com/art/Galahad-188471201

Kit xx


	23. The Mask Slips

He watched her get up from the table and excuse herself; watched the other Knights try to get her to stay and drink with them; and he watched the way her dress swayed as she walked away. Tristan stayed in his corner and took a sip of the ale Vanora had poured into his glass. He wasn't really paying attention to the conversation building back and forth over the table, and simply watched those around him in the tavern. As usual.

As the girl left the tavern, Tristan saw a Roman's eyes trail her and, moments later, he saw the man get up and head off in the same direction as Cass. Tristan's jaw clenched and he placed his glass on the table. There had been something in that Roman's eyes hat made Tristan wary. He wasn't sure where the Roman was going, but he could guess. And he didn't like what his guesses revealed. Tristan stood quickly and picked up the picture Cass had drawn of him, walking over to Dagonet.

"Dagonet, can you take this to my room?"

Dagonet looked at the scout for a moment, and, noticing something odd in the Knight's tone of voice, he nodded silently, accepting the picture. Tristan looked around again, and found that the Roman was gone. A flash of something- an urgency- rushed through him as he walked from the tavern, searching the ground for the Roman's trail. He found it quickly, even in the almost darkness, and followed the trail first to the outside of a building. Roman barracks.

A sort of frown creased Tristan's brow as he noted another set of footprints had joined those of the Roman he'd seen leave the tavern. Tristan exhaled and followed the footprints further until he reached the gates. There he saw a smaller set of footprints, made only moments before the Romans'; Cass' footprints. He recognised them from the tracks he'd seen when he found her in the forest.

The gates opened for Tristan, and the Knight stepped out into the field beyond. He tracked the footprints through the field to the graveyard; and stopped abruptly at what he then saw.

Cass felt the weight of the man above her pressing down on her, and as she struggled against the unrelenting grasp of the shorter Roman, the only thing that Cass could see was the crooked evil smile in front of her face. Her vision was completely blocked off as she felt the force of his lips press so hard against hers that her teeth dug into her lips. She tasted blood; and the alcohol in his breath.

Cass didn't know what to do. She was powerless to stop these men; to stop what these men were going to do to her. Completely powerless. Tears squeezed from between her eyes as she continued her vain attempt to fight them off.

The full weight of the Roman thudded down on top of her and Cass' breath was forced from her lungs. She still couldn't see anything. All she could feel was the intense pressure of the Roman's body on hers. But he wasn't moving. And she couldn't move. Cass just lay there under the weight of the Roman, feeling the grip on her wrists loosen.

The Roman rolled off Cass, and landed to her right. She blinked her salt-watery eyes and squinted up at the man who'd kicked him away. Tristan spat on the body of the Roman in disgust, staring for a moment at the knife embedded in his brain. His expression as masked as he could force it to be, he turned his gaze from the blood staining the grass to the small girl on the floor, who still hadn't moved.

His face softened when he looked down at Cass and saw that she was crying. Tristan knelt beside her and carefully pulled her into a sitting position. Her arms encircled Tristan as her body fell into his arms, sobs wracking her shaking form. Cass' head rested in the spot just under his shoulder, her tears staining his shirt, though he didn't notice. Tristan moved a hand to the back of the girl's head, holding her to him in a comforting gesture that most would think him incapable of giving.

Cass closed her eyes, unsure of how long she sat there, sobbing into the chest of the Knight who was being ultimately patient with her. Indeed, Tristan had no idea how long they had been there either; but even when it started to rain, he made no move. Cass felt the rain trickling down her skin, and Tristan looked down at her to see them midnight raindrops mingling with the trail of her tears.

The air turned cold, and the breeze on top of the rain made Tristan notice Cass start to shiver against him. He used the hand that was not entwined in Cass' hair to pull his dark cloak around so that it covered her. The warmth of the material passed from him to her and Cass felt her shivering lessen along with her sobs.

She let out a long, ragged breath into his chest, and opened her eyes. Her head turned upward; her eyes meeting those usually impenetrable, deep brown eyes of the quiet Knight in whose arms she was held. Even through the blur of the rain, Cass could see the glint his eye, but an odd expression on his face; one she had not seen before.

He gave her no time to think about the expression, before he confounded her with something new. Tristan's head leaned down to her, his lips grazing hers for only a moment. Cass took a sharp breath at the touch of his lips upon hers. He pulled back immediately, letting his hand fall from its entanglement in her hair, his face once more a mask. She looked up at him, her mind whirling with thoughts, all unfocused. Confusion wrapped around her as she tried to understand.

Her hand reached up to his cheek, her fingers just barely touching one of his tattoos. It was enough though, to get him to look at her again. Tristan's eyes found hers, and he held her with his unfathomable gaze. Cass almost held her breath as he lowered his head once more toward her. Their lips met this time, Cass tilting her head into his kiss.

Tristan, again, was the one to pull away, but he did so slowly, his eyes glinting as he moved back from the girl. He looked at her face, and found that Cass' cheeks were so red, that it was possible to see her blush through the darkness. He also noticed the tear escape from the corner of her stormy blue eyes. Tristan cursed himself inwardly. Why had he done that? _What_ had he done? How could he have taken advantage of her like that?

He turned to the Fort, aware that she was still staring at him. He knew that they should go back, before someone noticed them- or found them beside the bodies of two Roman officers. One hand went to slip under Cass and the other supported her back as he lifted her into his arms. He was almost cradling her, and though it made Cass blush more and become even more confused, she did not object. Cass was too exhausted and overwhelmed by all that had occurred. She merely rested her head against his chest once more, her fingers idly twiddling with part of his cape.

The time it took to reach Cass' room seemed to take a mere moment. She wondered though, if that was only because she was so intently focussed on the Knight carrying her. Her silent saviour did not look at her until they reached her room, but instead seemed absorbedly alert as they had passed through the Fort. She wondered what was going through his head at that moment, what he was thinking; feeling.

Tristan opened her door and, once inside, set her down on her bed. Cass' lips curled into a small almost-smile as she looked at the man before her. Neither said anything for a long while, and eventually, Tristan walked over to the candle on her table and lit it. Its light gave off a soft, orange glow, brightening the room and illuminating Tristan's once more neutral facial expression.

It also showed Cass the still-wet blood on the bottom of her boots; a horrific reminder to what had almost happened to her in the graveyard. Cass felt sick at the sight of it. Her hands went down to untie the knots that bound her into her boots, but she could not release herself. Her hands were shaking too much. It was as if the shock of what had almost been was only truly hitting her now, as if Tristan had before managed to postpone this by making her feel something entirely different. As he knelt beside her, Tristan's fingers quickly found and undid the knots that her attempts had only tightened.

Tristan stayed with her until she had somewhat calmed; until Cass lay in her bed, under the cover, her wet hair draped behind her. His hand toyed gently with an almost-dry ebony strand of hair for a moment, as if hoping she wouldn't notice, before he turned to leave. Her hand caught his as he tried to withdraw it though. Tristan looked at her face and saw a sort of desperation there, and a pain.

"Tristan, please don't leave me," Cass said in a pained whisper, her throat too sore from her crying.

He stood for a moment, just staring at the girl. Tristan gave a small nod, and Cass' grip on his arm released enough for him to reach for the chair in the corner of the room. He positioned it beside her bed; Cass' hold on his arm unwilling to allow anything else. A small smile graced her lips, beautiful by the light of the one candle's flickering flame. His hand took hers, making her release his arm to allow him to hold it properly.

"Thank you," she whispered, so low that even with _his_ expert ears, he struggled to hear her.

He sighed as he watched Cass lie in her bed, waiting for her breathing to relax, a signal for her sleep. This girl could not seem to stay out trouble. Since she'd been at the Fort, he'd saved her numerous times. But since she'd been at the Fort, he'd started to feel again. That was something he'd learned to block out. And now he'd let it get the better of him. And he'd kissed her.

The mask had slipped from his face for but a moment. And now he wasn't sure how to put it back on.


	24. The Morning After

Over and over again, the images of the previous night replayed through her dreams. At times they turned to darker scenes, and at some point in the middle of the night, the nightmarish recollections grew so bad that she, outwardly and unwittingly, displayed her distress. Cass shifted in her sleep, her breathing becoming erratic. Her grip on Tristan's hand grew tighter and he squeezed it, laying his other hand on her cheek. The touch of his skin on hers, though she was unaware that he had even touched her, calmed her; turned her sleeping mind to better thoughts. Like her thoughts concerning Tristan.

Her unconscious mind mulled over each instance she'd been with the Knight, starting with when he found her in the forest. Cass' thoughts finally settled on what had happened after he'd saved her, mere hours before. The first brush of his lips against hers. And the second. The one she'd returned. A smile almost appeared on her lips as she slept, but she woke before it could.

Cass' eyelashes fluttered open, revealing the sun's rays beaming through her window. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the light, but opened them again sharply. Her head turned to the left, and she saw him there. Tristan was still sat upright in her chair, holding Cass' hand. He saw her move and tilted his head at the girl lying in her bed.

"Tristan..."

His eyes flashed at the tone of her voice; concern. _Why should she be concerned?_ Cass turned her body to face him, leaning on an elbow for support.

"Did you... Have you been awake all night?" she asked, a sort of worry creasing her brow into a frown.

Tristan gave a small nod, but said nothing. Cass said nothing either for awhile; until his silence broke her down once more as it always seemed to. Her expression smoothed as she allowed her lips to form a small smile.

"Thank you," she whispered, subconsciously giving his hand a soft squeeze as she did.

"...For staying..."

"For saving me... Again," she finished, the latter part of her sentence almost making her laugh.

She didn't laugh though, because she saw the blank but deadly serious look upon the quiet Knight's face. Cass tried to take the subject away from his saving her from the two Romans. She didn't want to think about them. And she wasn't even sure if she'd imagined the two kisses he'd given her, if they were the product of her over-active imagination.

"You- you should probably go and get some sleep. I feel awful having asked you to stay with me... I never thought that you'd actually stay up all night..."

Tristan shook his head slightly and stood, his hand leaving hers for the first time since she'd taken hold of it the night before. He was about to leave, Cass knew, but she half-wished that he wouldn't go. As he was about to move for the door, Tristan stopped and turned back to her. He surprised her yet again with something that she had not expected, when he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

He was gone though; before Cass had time to process enough of what had happened for her to even speak, to even blush a bright red. Her fingertips reached up to her forehead, to the place where his lips had been just moments ago. Something ran through her body. A feeling of mixed wonderment and... an odd sense of delight? She hadn't dreamt their kisses then, she now knew; whereas before, she had almost questioned her own memories because of the shock the Roman attack had created in her.

Her empty hand, the one just lying where Tristan had left it, felt cold. Almost strange. Without Tristan's hand in hers, she felt as if she was missing something. _No... That's just silly_, she thought as she flexed her fingers. She even managed to convince herself that she was just missing his touch because their hands had been together all night, and for no other reason.

Cass sat up in her bed, and half-stumbled as she pushed herself from it to stand on the floor. She stood beside the chair that Tristan had sat on all night, and picked up the black dress draped across its back. It smelled of him, she couldn't help but notice. _Everybody has a smell_, and as Cass held the black dress to her, she recognised Tristan's. _He has a nice smell_, she thought.

She sighed and stripped from the red dress she'd slept in, changing into the black dress. As folds of dark material fell down to her bare feet, Cass looked around the room for her boots. When she found them though, she was reminded of the two Romans who'd attacked her. Cass grimaced and asked herself, _why does everything seem to remind me of _them _right now?_ She picked up one of her boots and started using her fingernails to scrape off chips of dried blood in varying-sized flecks.

When her boots were as clear as she could stomach to make them, Cass pulled them onto her feet and tied them as tightly as she usually did. Her mind flashed back to the previous night, when Tristan had helped her undo the knots that she could not. She hadn't quite realised the extent that Tristan had gone to in taking care of her before she remembered so little a thing as that.

Cass was so confused by the quiet Knight. She made up her mind to find him, they needed to talk. _So much for my resolution to leave my feelings forever unsaid_, she thought, though she did have to then remind herself that _he_ had kissed _her_; and that meant that maybe, just maybe, he felt something for her. Cass strapped her sword to her waist; she would never forget her sword again, and she left her room quickly.

She stopped outside Tristan's door, waiting in the high-ceilinged corridor and just trying to work up the courage to knock on his door. She did though. She had to. There was no answer, and Cass tried again. She sighed as she received no response once more. _Sleeping? Or not there?_ Either way, Cass decided to look elsewhere for Tristan, and she began with the tavern.

She almost rushed to the tavern, passing by a lot of buildings without really even noticing them. She was disappointed when she reached the tavern. Tristan wasn't there; neither were the rest of the Knights. Vanora was though. Cass smiled at the woman and started to walk toward her. She was stopped though, before she had even taken three steps.

What occurred next happened almost too quickly for Cass to really understand what was going on. She had seen the Roman soldier pointing a long finger at her and some other Romans stand. Then there were a lot of Romans around her, and before she could stop them, two men had seized hold of her arms. The grip on her arms was strong and tight, both men's fingers digging bruises into her skin.

Confused, Cass heard Vanora's voice shout, "What's going on? Let go of her; what do you think you're _doing_?"

Her attempts to get to Cass were blocked though by the wall of Roman soldiers between them. Cass had no idea what was going on, but she knew that she really hated Romans. _Why do they always seem to be manhandling me? _She thought angrily, through her bewilderment at their actions.

"What _is_ going on here?" Vanora asked; her voice now almost a screech as she fought to be heard by the Roman soldiers ignoring her.

One of the men turned to her, his tone serious, "This girl is under arrest for committing two murders."

Confusion crossed Vanora's face as she countered him, "And can you prove it?"

The Roman nodded.

"Last night, she went outside of the Fort, as did the two now deceased officers. She returned, they didn't. We found them dead by the graveyard this morning. It's obvious that she committed the crime. Look, there's even blood on her shoes."

Everyone's eyes looked to Cass' boots, and, sure enough, they saw the flecks of blood she had not yet removed. Cass held her breath. She _hadn't_ killed them. But what was the point of telling them, she knew they wouldn't listen.

"But, that doesn't... You can't... She _didn't_..." Vanora said, some of her resolve draining away.

"Oh but we can. And the word of a Roman soldier is more valuable than some tavern wench," he sneered at the woman.

"Let's go," he said, turning back to Cass and signalling for the other Romans to depart.

Cass felt the grip on her arms start to pull her backward and she struggled against their grip. _What are they going to do?_ she thought, her eyes wide with an unknowing fear. Just as Cass began to dread the worst, a voice stopped them. Cass recognised the voice instantly. Arthur.

"Let her go," he said; his voice calm but low.

"This is not your concern Artorius."

"Actually it _is_ our concern," Arthur continued, his voice still somehow calm though he fought to keep it so.

Cass wished that she could turn around to see what was happening, but the large hands around her arms held her still. All she could see were the faces of the several Roman's in front of her. They shifted uneasily, as if Arthur's objection bothered them.

"She's with us," Cass heard another voice say.

Lancelot. She felt a surge of gratitude and a sort of happiness at the Knight's words. Who else was there she did not know, but they must have been the reason that the Roman's were looking uneasy. The Roman paused, almost faltered.

"...That... that still doesn't excuse what she's done."

"Firstly, let go of her you, Roman bast-"

"Lancelot!" Arthur's calm but cautionary warning said.

"_She_ wasn't even the one to kill those men," Gawain's voice chipped in, an edge of anger present in the tone.

"This is just ridiculous! She killed them, and she will be punished."

Cass felt a sharp tug on her left arm and grimaced. She heard the sound of ringing steel from behind her and almost shuddered. Unknown to Cass, behind her every Knight present had drawn a weapon on the Romans, who had stopped dead in their tracks.

"I don't think you really want to be doing that," Lancelot said, eyeing the Romans with a deadly glare.

There was silence for what seemed like a long time, until Arthur finally spoke, "Now, if you'd let go of her, I will explain exactly what happened."

_Exactly what happened? How does Arthur know?_ she thought, though not at all unhappy that Arthur knew she was innocent. Cass felt the grip on her arms tighten; they weren't going to let her free so easily.

"Explain first," the Roman said; his voice was deep and edged with doubt.

She heard someone sigh from behind her and then Arthur continued, "Alright. So you think that she killed the two Romans by the graveyard. She did not. Tristan did."

_What? Did he just... sell Tristan out?_ Cass blinked; her breathing becoming heavier at the pause between Arthur's words and what he said next.

"But he only did so, because when he followed her trail he found one of them holding her to the ground, the other on top of her. They were going to rape her."

Cass let his words sink in. She had purposefully avoided thinking about that word concerning what those Romans had tried to do to her. Because it _was_ what they had meant to do to her. She saw the faces of the Romans in front of her turn sour and uneasy.

There was a long pause, and though she did not see it, the Roman who seemed to be in charge of the others, nodded to the two holding her. Gradually, their grip on her arm loosened and eventually released. Cass turned and pushed passed the Romans. She stepped as quickly as she could behind the Knight closest to her.

"They deserved what they got," Galahad spat at the Romans, disgusted by their treatment of Cass.

The Romans glared at the Knights; and the Knights glared back until finally the Roman leading the others led them from the tavern. All the while, Cass just stood behind Lancelot, watching the others. They had just saved her life. Ever since she arrived in this time, she seemed to need saving an awful lot more than ever at home. Cass breathed a sigh of relief as the Romans left.

She tried to calm herself down, but even after they had gone though, Cass still stared out blankly into space, just trying to relax her mind. She couldn't really make herself understand just how much had happened over the last night, and even what had just happened sent her brain whirling in confusion. Cass was only barely aware when Lancelot led her over to her chair and made her sit.

"Cass?"

She blinked at the sound of her name.

"Are you alright?"

Cass looked up at Lancelot, who was staring intently at her face. She took a few deep breaths before she nodded to him. He didn't look totally convinced. All of the Knights took their usual seats around the corner table, and Cass could see the look of concealed anger in most of their faces. She scanned them, looking for the one face that was absent. Tristan.

"Those sick Roman bastards!" Gawain said from beside Cass.

Dagonet nodded his head slightly in agreement, as did most of the other Knights. Cass stayed silent. The Knights continued raging about the Romans in such a way for, what seemed to Cass, a long time. She didn't even notice that she'd started to tune them out, not wanting to think about anything they were discussing, until Vanora appeared at her side. Cass could tell that the woman wanted to know what had happened from Cass herself, but didn't dare to ask.

Cass stood, excusing herself from the Knights' company, and, taking Vanora's hand, led the woman over to the bar. The Knights simply looked at the two women as they moved away, their concern still trailing Cass.

As she stood beside Vanora, leaning against the bar top, everything seemed to spill out of her. Vanora's eyes widened on hearing about the Romans, her hand reaching out for Cass' shoulder. Vanora couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when she heard about Tristan saving her. Cass didn't want to dwell on what had almost happened, so she proceeded to tell the woman about what Tristan had done after saving her; about the kiss... Kisses. Vanora paused.

"He _kissed_ you? Tristan? ..._Tristan_?"

Cass gave a short nod.

"I'm so confused. I don't at all understand him..."

"Well, I don't know what to say... It's not at all like him really. I mean, he's taken women before, but-"

Cass felt a pang of jealousy stab through her and almost frowned at Vanora.

"-No one really knows about Tristan. He's always kept to himself. What you're saying sounds... I don't know, different? Unusual for him anyway... I'm afraid that I can't really be of much help to you. I... You'll just have to see what happens," Vanora finished with a half smile on her face.

"Oh thanks for your help, Vanora," Cass said sarcastically.

The red-haired woman's smile grew.

"No _really_. Thanks a lot," she continued, getting up to leave Vanora alone.

"Where are you going?" Vanora asked, not really wanting the girl, her friend, to go out on her own so soon after so much had happened.

Cass indicated to the corner table, and she flashed a small smile at the red-haired woman. Cass approached the Knights, placing one hand on the back of Arthur's chair. They turned to her.

"Thank you," she said, looking at each of them in turn.

Each Knight nodded back to her.

"...How did you know?" She asked after a pause, her curiosity overcoming her.

Cass already knew the answer though; but all the same, she was glad to hear it come from one of the men before her. Lancelot was the one to speak.

"Tristan called a meeting this morning."

_Tristan. _Tristan_ called a meeting... He must have done it as soon as he'd left my room. _Cass sighed. _Once again, the quiet Sarmatian scout is the reason that I am safe. _She needed to find him, she owed him too much. She needed to thank him.

She _had_ to find Tristan. As soon as possible.


	25. A Nudge And A Neigh

"I should find him," Cass said, speaking her thoughts aloud.

She turned to the Knights and asked, "You don't, by any chance, happen to know where Tristan is?"

Almost every Knight shook their head, and Cass frowned.

"Of course you don't," she muttered, loud enough for no one but herself to hear.

"He said he had to sort something out about those Roman soldiers," Dagonet said.

An image of the previous night found its way back into the foreground of her mind; Tristan's knives in the brains of the Romans who'd attacked her. She didn't see him pick them up. He must have gone back for them.

"If I know him as well as I think I do-" began Bors.

"Which is not very well-" interrupted Lancelot, his trademark smirk reappearing on his face.

Cass was glad to see it. It was nice to see something happy after so much that made her brain ache for something pleasant- even if it was just the Knights jibing at each other.

After shooting a sideways glare at Lancelot, Bors finished, "-Then he's probably out scouting by now."

Cass nodded. That _did_ make sense. And if Tristan was out scouting, then Cass had no chance of finding him. Last time she'd tried, he'd been the one to find her; _and_ she wasn't particularly eager to climb another tree in blind hope that she may or may not find the scout. _Though_, she reasoned, _it can't hurt to just take a _quick _look._

"I really need to talk to him... I'll just go and have a look," Cass said, smiling at the Knights.

Her smile faded as she saw the faces of the Knights. They flashed glances at each other; worried glances. Cass looked at them confusedly. It was up to Arthur, it seemed, to elaborate.

"In the meeting this morning, and in light of even more recent events, we decided that you should probably stay with at least one of the Knights for the foreseeable future."  
Cass blinked. _Do they really think I'm in that much danger?_ Though when she thought about it, she knew that they were right to believe as such. In the last twenty-four hours she'd been attacked and almost carted away to be punished for a crime that she didn't commit. Cass couldn't think what to say to the commander and future leader of Britain, so she simply nodded to Arthur. Some measure of relief seemed to cross the Knights' faces and Cass was inwardly touched that they even cared that much to think of that. No one said anything for a while.

"You know," Galahad said, breaking the awkward silence that had started to develop.

"I was just about to go out and train. Why don't you join me? You might find Tristan when we're out there."

Cass didn't really need to think about her answer and she nodded to the Knight. He returned it with a smile, and stood, leaving the tavern with Cass. They went first, to Galahad's room. Cass had never seen where Galahad and Gawain lived before, and she was surprised to see that theirs were two rooms off a corridor to a smaller building, much like the rooms she and the other Knights stayed in. There was a third door leading from the corridor, and Cass wondered about it.

Galahad answered her query when he said, "That's Bors room. He's only ever in there when Vanora kicks him out though."

Cass smiled. _Yeah, that sounds like Bors and Vanora_, she thought. Galahad opened the door to his room and stepped inside. Cass stood in the doorway and waited for the Knight to emerge again. She noticed Galahad's room was much the same as her own, like Lancelot's had been. _Are _all_ of the Knights' rooms like this?_ Cass wondered, her mind leading her to vaguely wonder what Tristan's was like. Galahad came back out into the corridor carrying two bows and a quiver full of arrows.

"You have two bows?" Cass asked as they started to walk outside.

Galahad nodded and said, "I've always had my own and a spare. Just in case."

They left the Fort through the gates that they always left through. Cass couldn't help but feel uneasy though, when she saw the Romans on top of the wall and guarding the gates. After the previous night, and even earlier that morning, Cass wasn't sure what could make her _not _uneasy around Roman soldiers. She shivered, not looking at the soldiers' faces in case any of them _had_ been in the tavern earlier. It didn't go unnoticed by Galahad, who sped up the pace at which they walked.

They didn't see Tristan on their way to the training hill, though Cass was sure she was looking far harder than Galahad was; she had far more _reason_ to be looking for him. Tristan wasn't even where he usually sat, at the base of his tree. Cass sighed. She knew that she'd just have to find him later.

Cass made the most of her time with Galahad though, working on her skills with a bow. After some time, Cass' hit rate had increased dramatically. She hit the tree- not necessarily her target point- every time but once. _She's _better_, a lot better_, Galahad thought. Cass grinned inwardly that she'd managed to hit the tree she was aiming at; she did put most of her hits, however, down to dumb luck.

"That was actually very good-" Galahad said, half-amazed at how much better she'd become.

"Thanks for the tone of surprise in your voice," Cass answered sarcastically.

"Well, I mean; it was good... for _you_," he finished, winking at her.

Cass stared at him, unable to stop her cheeks from turning a light shade of red, but also unable to stop herself from smiling at the Knight's joke- even if it was at her expense. She threw her arm out at him, attempting to hit him jokingly on the arm, but Galahad dodged her easily, laughing as he did.

"Come on," he said, when he'd calmed his laughter.

"We should go back. I'm supposed to be meeting Gawain..."

Cass nodded to the Knight, but didn't enquire as to why he was meeting Gawain. _If it was any of my business, he would have told me,_ Cass reasoned as they made their way back to the Fort.

"The only problem now is that I'll have to find someone else to dump you with," Galahad joked as they passed through the gates.

Cass blushed; understanding that his words were meant as a joke, but blushing because her own feelings on taking up the Knights' time were almost overwhelming. She hadn't really thought about how much she would put the Knights out by this arrangement. She didn't want to be a burden to them, and this new situation made Cass feel extremely uncomfortable. Noticing her blush, and the way she turned from him slightly, Galahad frowned.

"You know I was just joking, don't you?"

Cass looked back at him for a moment and gave a small nod, a tiny, fake smile appearing on her lips. She'd have to find some way to just not be such a bother to the Knights, or at least make them worry a little less so that they wouldn't think they'd have to look after her all the time. Cass sighed. _You're just being stupid,_ she thought to herself, though she couldn't convince herself that she was.

The Knights always seemed to be doing things for her; saving her. And what had she done for them? Drawn a few pictures. Cass felt a wave of guilt rush through her. She made up her mind; she'd have to try and do something for the Knights. But what, she couldn't fathom.

Galahad said nothing as they walked through the Fort, Cass seemed totally lost in thought and he didn't think that he should interrupt. She snapped out of it as they approached a building with a thatched roof. Cass blinked. _Why are we going to the stable?_ Her insecurities around horses came flashing back to her in that instant, but before she could say anything, Galahad had already walked through the open, wooden door.

Cass heard him speaking with someone and reluctantly followed him inside. She was surprised to see Tristan standing beside his horse in one of the stalls, his face half-hidden in the shadows. The Knights nodded to each other and Galahad turned back to Cass.

"Right, so that's alright then."

"What is?" Cass asked confusedly.

"You'll stay here with Tristan while I meet Gawain... You _did_ say that you wanted to speak with him," Galahad answered.

Galahad gave Cass a mischievous smile as he left the stable; and Cass wondered aloud what that was about. Tristan looked for a moment at the girl, and gave her a shrug of his shoulders before turning back to brush his dappled grey horse. Cass stared at his back for a moment, her earlier determination to talk to Tristan fading fast.

Instead, she turned her gaze to the interior of the stable. She'd never actually been inside before, so everything was new to her. The yellowy light pooled into the room in strips through the small windows near the building's roof. Thick, wooden columns held up wooden beams to support the structure, and a few unlit candles rested on tiny ledges.

But even with all that surrounding her, Cass could really only focus on the man in the fifth stall on the right. She took a deep breath and walked slowly over to where the Knight stood. She stopped just short of where Tristan's horse was, not sure enough of the animal to venture any closer. Tristan must have heard her move over to him, because he turned and held out a hand for Cass.

She looked at his hand for a moment and then placed hers inside his upturned palm. Tristan softly pulled her a step closer to both he and his horse. Her face was flourishing with an unintended blush; his face was unreadable, whether shadowed, as it was now, or not. Cass had no idea what he was doing, but as he started to move her hand towards his horse's muzzle, she got the gist. Cass pulled her hand back slightly and the Knight paused.

"Oh no. Tristan; I'm not really a... horse kind of person. They don't like me. An-and I've always been kind of scared of them-"

Cass knew she was rambling, but she couldn't stop herself. She had an inkling already that Tristan's horse didn't like her; she didn't want her suspicions confirmed by it biting her or something.

"I can tell," Tristan's deep voice responded quietly.

"So can she," he added, gesturing to the dappled grey horse before them.

Cass frowned slightly. Tristan wasn't going to let go of her hand; that much was already clear. She let him guide her hand forward, cursing herself for letting him do it. She was _sure_ that it would end badly. He pressed her hand gently to his horse's muzzle, his hand covering hers as he had done when introducing her to the hawk.

The horse half-nuzzled into Cass' hand, making her flinch backward slightly, but Tristan's hand kept hers in place. There was silence for a while, only the sound of breathing and the distant hum of the world outside the stable. It was peaceful; and the time in the quiet had, for Cass, warmed any friction that she had felt toward the horse.

It took Cass a long while to look up from the horse and see that Tristan's eyes were trained on her. She blushed a deeper shade of red. _Why blush when he's just looking at me?_ Cass thought as she stared into the eyes of the man next to her. When she finally broke free of the silent spell his eyes held her in, Cass spoke; her voice almost a whisper.

"I know I seem to say this almost daily, but... thank you."

Tristan's head tilted to the left slightly, his deep, brown eyes glinting with their hidden spark.

"Thank you _so_ much," she continued, her words taking on a slow pace.

His hand released hers, and hers dropped to her side. His, however, moved under her chin; a soft touch, a gesture that Cass had never allowed anyone before to make. She inhaled slowly, feeling her heart start to beat faster. She forced herself to look down, away from his eyes, lest her cheeks turn a vibrant mix of red and purple.

"Everything you've done... Everything..."

Her words were lost even before they formed on her tongue. Cass saw him move closer, felt him move closer. She looked at him, her eyes meeting his once more. It was almost as if there was a question in his glinting brown eyes. And Cass understood exactly what it was.

Tristan's head bowed and his lips met hers in a gentle embrace. It felt like only seconds to Cass before he pulled back. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest, her breathing wanting only to come out half-ragged. Cass could only try not to let him see how much one little touch from him had done to her. But his lips were touching hers again before she could control her breath. Their lips moved against each other, first softly, but with an increasingly building fire; until-

A nudge and a neigh interrupted them; broke their kiss.

Both Tristan and Cass moved as the horse nudged Tristan's arm. A smile found its way to Cass' lips as immediately as Tristan's had left them. She didn't know if it hadn't anything to do with the horse's timing or not; but it was definitely present because of that kiss. Silence spread through the stable again, and, once more, Cass was the one to break it.

"I told you she didn't like me."

Tristan looked at her quizzically. Cass blushed once more, her face seemingly permanently red now.

"If she liked me... She wouldn't have interrupted."

Tristan's lips curled upward into the first true smile she'd seen him give since she'd known him. Cass was mesmerised by it. And by the fact that something so small as a smile, could make her so happy. She and Tristan stayed in the fifth stall down for a long time afterwards; with Cass just standing by, whilst Tristan brushed and fed his horse.

They went to the tavern, as usual, and neither gave any indication that anything had happened between them. Neither were the type to flaunt such a thing. It was no one's business but their own. And their secret was well-kept. But Tristan's every little glance toward Cass, with that special glint in his eye, had her heart pounding in her chest and a blush blooming on her cheeks.

She wouldn't wonder until later, when she was lying in bed that night, what this all meant. Or why she'd forgotten to ask Tristan what this made them. Or... She closed her eyes, letting confusion and forgetfulness become the topic of another day.

**Author's Note: **Okay so, firstly, I finished my picture of Bors, so erm, here it is: http:/ princesspomegranate. deviantart. com/#/d34k28q (just remove the spaces :) )

Secondly, I am sorry to say, I am soon to go on hiatus. I have two exams that require SERIOUS amounts of revising, so I have to focus on that until January 30th. *dies* I think though, I may be able to do a couple more chapters before then, because (if I have to leave it for a while) there is a place I want to leave it. (Don't worry, it's no cliffhanger. :P) Ye have been warned! :/

Kit xx


	26. Leaving Her Speechless

Cass woke up to a knock on her door; a soft, but short knock. The light outside was still blue and dim. She squinted through the darkness at her door, as if by some way her eyes could see through the wood to the person beyond. Her hand unclenched from around her car keys; from where her hand always rested as she slept since she'd found them.

Cass threw off her cover and shuffled slowly out of bed. She almost opened the door, but her mind brought back the memory of when she'd opened the door to Lancelot. She wouldn't make that mistake again. Cass donned her jeans; they were closer than her training trousers and slowly opened her door slightly.

Through the crack between the door and the frame, Cass saw the man outside. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw that it was Tristan in the corridor. As she opened the door further, Cass couldn't help but wonder why he was there; not that she was complaining.

They stood for a moment in the doorway, both trying to find each other's eyes in the darkness before Cass snapped out of her trance and asked him inside. Tristan nodded to her, and entered Cass' room as she busied herself with lighting the candle on the table. When the flickering light filled the small room, Cass turned back to the Knight, who pushed the door closed. A silence grew in the space between them, and this time, Cass was certain that she wouldn't be the one to break it. She was right.

"Cass," he said simply.

She loved the way his deep, accented voice formed her name.

"Tristan," she said in return, after it became apparent that he would say no more.

Even in the wavering candlelight, Cass could see the glint in his eyes. She didn't question him, even though she desperately wanted to, but merely stayed where she was, watching the Knight as he watched her. Something crossed his face, a flash of emotion that Cass could not quite catch. It was there for only the briefest of moments, but it had caused Tristan to pause. His eyes flickered from Cass to the door, and he turned. As his hand reached for the door handle, Cass blinked through her confusion.

"Tristan, wait," she said, her voice filled with the bewilderment that she was feeling.

His hand lingered on the door handle, and Tristan's head turned back to her. His eyes revealed that he was waiting for her to continue. She couldn't think what to say; couldn't fathom why he had come to her room. He continued to mystify her, as he had done since they'd met.

"I don't... I don't understand..." she said in a whisper.

"What... What does this all mean...?"

Tristan looked at her for a moment, his face unreadable, and he turned his body back to her. He had always been a man of few words; he was more a man of action. He moved closer to her, until he was standing next to her. His hand reached out slowly to cradle her cheek. The sudden, simple contact of Tristan's hand over her cheek caused a blush to blossom beneath it. The way his eyes stared into hers told her the only answer she knew that she would get. A small smile crept onto Cass' face, and she leant her head into his chest. Things just didn't need to be as complicated as she seemed to want to make them.

Over the next few days, Cass spent her time with the Knights and in the tavern with Vanora. To anyone else but Cass and Tristan, it seemed as if nothing had changed. Apart from the fact that Cass was working harder than ever, both in the tavern and when she trained with the Knights.

She'd improved in her training, in each aspect that the Knights had taught her. The hardest thing that she still found to learn properly however; was throwing daggers. Cass thought that because her aim had improved with a bow and arrow, she might've been able to get closer to the target with a dagger. She was dead wrong.

One morning- as Arthur and the Knights were still enforcing their arrangement, whether Cass liked it or not- Cass went out training with Gawain. She managed to hit a tree almost every time she threw a dagger; but every tree that she had hit had not been the one that she was aiming for.

"You know; if ever you're in a battle..." Gawain began with a grin.

"Don't try throwing daggers."

"So you think I should just give up?"

The grin remained on his face and he gave a slight tilt of his head. Cass sighed and then allowed a small smile to form on her lips.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"I think it may just be a little _safer_ for everyone involved if you hang on to your weapons."

Gawain took her mind off her failure quite quickly though, by taking her back to training with an axe. She was good at that. They went over basic movements again, and then Gawain got her to spar with him. He noted how Cass' strength in each swing seemed to have become greater since the last time they had trained with each other.

Gawain thought to ask her about why it was, and when he did, she replied, "When I was training with Dagonet, he told me to use my anger about that Ro..."

She paused, not wanting to bring up that vile man, before continuing, "He told me to put it into my swing and to visualise it... I've just got quite a bit more to be angry about since last time."

Gawain exhaled and nodded. She _did _have a lot more to be angry about. A string of rather unpleasant words flew through Gawain's mind as he thought about the Romans. They were the reason he and the other Knights were in Britain. They were the reason that so many of his friends and brothers were dead. They were the reason that he had been forced to be a killer. And now, when the Knights had found Cass, someone who seemed so far removed from the Romans, they had to try and hurt her. _Yes. Cass _does_ have a lot more to be angry about. And so do we_, he thought, a scowl creasing his features.

"Er, Gawain?"

Gawain blinked out of his thoughts.

"Sorry, I was just-" he began, but was interrupted before he could even think of an end to his sentence.

"It's okay, you don't have to explain."

Gawain tilted his head at the girl, uncertain of what it was that she meant.

"I get wrapped up in my thoughts a lot. Everyone does once in a while. I wouldn't have interrupted you, it's just, well, that storm coming doesn't look too friendly."

Cass gestured to the sky, and Gawain saw immediately that she was right. Rumbles of grey came from a distance closer than the storm clouds looked. The incoming storm was showering off to the south, but was closing in on its prey. As Cass and Gawain stood atop a hill carrying metal weapons, they were lightning conductors waiting to be struck. They were sitting ducks if they stayed where they were.

Gawain nodded to Cass and they started back for the Fort. As they stood, waiting for the gates to be opened for them, the rain started to fall. They weren't in so much danger anymore; the lightning had easier targets now. The rain fell hard and fast; tiny droplets of cool on their skin.

"I hate the rain," Gawain said as he frowned into the weather.

Cass grinned and stared up to the sky.

"How can you hate the rain? British rain's beautiful."

"British rain's irritating," Gawain countered.

Cass shook her head, but did not pursue the topic. She knew how _she_ hated it when she was in a foreign country, and the weather was not like her own country's. She always yearned from British rain. _Gawain and the others must yearn for Sarmatian rain_, she thought as they walked through the Fort toward the tavern.

The thick, rolling rainclouds had darkened the sky, but if they hadn't have done, Cass knew that the sky would be darkening anyway. Winter made the days much shorter. She hadn't noticed as much in the 21st Century- electricity accounted for that- but at the Fort, winter nights seemed to go on for far longer.

When they arrived at the tavern, they took shelter under the roofed part of it. They saw that most of the other Knights were already seated at the corner table and had already started drinking. That was another thing that made winter nights seemingly longer; people started drinking a lot earlier. Bors was not at the table, but Cass spotted him at the bar beside Vanora; some of their younger children were there too, playing at their feet. Cass smiled a little.

Cass saw that the Knights and Arthur were _not_ the only people at their table that night though. A woman sat perched upon Lancelot's knee, his arm around her, and even from just arriving, Cass could see where that was headed. It was the first time she'd seen him with a woman since she'd been with the Knights, but Cass couldn't help but roll her eyes at him, making Gawain laugh. She realised how hypocritical the roll of her eyes had just been moments later, and chastised herself. The only reason she had done it though, was because she had remembered Lancelot's not-so-virtuous reputation throughout history.

Cass and Gawain joined the others at the table, and the usual banter between all around ensued. Cass listened as they ate, but said very little. She was more focussed on subtly being focussed on the quiet Knight in the corner. Their eyes met and she disguised her blush by taking a sip of water.

The night passed not as quickly as Cass would have hoped. The tavern was particularly busy with lots of people sheltering from the rain. Cass felt that particular claustrophobic feeling that being in the middle of bustling crowds gave her. No one much had bothered Cass in the tavern since the Knights had made such a display of defending her. She'd admit anytime that she was thankful for it. But the best part of her night came surprisingly near its end, when she saw Tristan stand and place his glass on the table. Cass went over to collect his glass when he stopped her.

"I'm going back to my room," he said after a moment.

"I can walk you back... if you want."

Cass blinked.

"...Er, yes. Sure. Just too seconds," Cass replied with a smile.

She picked up Tristan's glass and took it over to the bar where Vanora was busy placing a couple of other empty glasses on the bar top to be washed.

"Vanora, Tristan's going back to his room now, and since Dagonet's already gone and I don't think Lancelot would be too pleased if I had to tag along when he goes back, I'm going to walk back now. So I'll see you tomorrow."

The woman smiled at Cass but raised an eyebrow her. Cass paused and looked back at Vanora.

"What?"

Vanora's smile grew at the girl's confused question.

"Well, I was just wondering if you were ever planning on telling me what's going on between you and Tristan?"

Cass' mouth was open but no sound came out. She swallowed, and it took her a moment to remember that she'd told Vanora that Tristan had kissed her.

"Er... You see... Erm," Cass stumbled, glancing back to the Knight waiting for her.

"Oh... I'll tell you tomorrow," she finished, turning from the smiling woman before she could say anything in return.

As Cass headed straight for Tristan and they began walking from the tavern, he noticed an expression on her face that he could not determine. He said nothing though, as they walked out into the recently-rained-upon earth outside. Cass kept pace with Tristan and she walked beside him in a quietness that became them both.

Tristan watched her though, even if she hadn't noticed, his eyes were almost always on her. Cass' mind was occupied as she walked beside him; she just couldn't get the fact that she was going to have to tell Vanora _something_, out of her head- no matter how hard she tried.

When she was sure that they were alone, and that no one was near enough to hear them, Cass said, "Tristan."

He tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement.

"Before- the other morning... I told Vanora that you- that _we_ kissed, and she wants to, to know what's going on."

Tristan said nothing. He didn't even look concerned.

"What should I... I mean, what should I tell her?"

He stopped just outside of the building that held their separate rooms, the one that she was beginning to call home. His hands took hold of her cold, slender fingers and his deep, brown eyes held hers. Tristan and she moved closer together in the dark, night air.

"Tell her..." he said quietly, his eyes glinting as a star in the blue-black sky does.

"The truth."

Cass slowly exhaled the breath that she held in the pause he'd just taken, and a smile found its way as easily to her face as her ever-so-familiar blush. Tristan bent his head to her, into a kiss. Tristan's hands found their way from hers to her to wind around her waist, pulling her closer to him, and she smiled into his lips. In an instant, Tristan pulled back from Cass, leaving her speechless; breathless.

She wasn't sure why he had pulled back so suddenly until she followed his eyes to the door beside them. Until she followed his eyes to the man standing in the doorway beside them. Cass' blush darkened as she realised that Dagonet had seen her and Tristan, and she had no idea what she should do, or what Tristan would do. No one said anything for a long time.

Surprising both Cass and Tristan, Dagonet simply smiled a crooked smile at them and turned back into the building. Dagonet was the third person to leave Cass speechless that day. But Tristan's last kiss, the one he left her with at her door, left her gasping for unneeded words once more.

**Author's Note:** Remember last chapter, how I said that I may have to stop... Well, I don't think I will.. I'll just use my spare time to write (which to be honest is what I do anyway :P). :)

Kit xx


	27. To Explain Twice, Or Four Times

Cass was up and dressed before the knock on her door came. She'd been half-dreading the moment it did since she'd opened her eyes. Every morning Dagonet was the one who took her to the tavern for breakfast, and this morning, Cass had no idea what to say to him.

Since his unexpected reaction when he'd seen her and Tristan, Cass had been considering the tall Knight. She had no idea what reaction that she had really expected to get. She didn't even know how to tell Vanora, and now Dagonet knew too. What both of them would have to say on the matter was what had kept Cass awake all night.

As far as she knew, Tristan had always been the loner of the group, the Knight without a pair. How would the other Knights react to the fact that Cass was... with him? Like Vanora did to the fact that they had kissed? Or worse? Cass had no idea. And her thoughts were now only leading her in a confused circle.

She shot to the door as soon as she heard Dagonet's knock, but when she got there, she hesitantly placed a hand on the door handle. It was as if her mind and body were battling through her eagerness to get this over with and her dread of what Dagonet might say. She opened the door to the man outside and tried to keep all traces of emotion from her face. Her attempt made him let out a small laugh; his sideways smile making a reappearance.

"Oh, please don't laugh Dagonet!" Cass said, avoiding the tall Knight's eyes.

After a moment, Dagonet stopped and looked down at the small girl, who he could tell was trying her hardest to look anywhere else but at him. He saw the blush on her cheeks already begin to bloom though.

"I'm not laughing at you," he said simply.

"It really seems like you are," she replied, feeling the red heat on her cheeks.

Dagonet shook his head and said, "Well, I _am_ laughing _because_ of you. It's just that we've been trying for over thirteen years to get Tristan to show some type of emotion, to let someone in. And we meet you, and there it is. Almost straight away."

He paused.

"I'd never have known if I hadn't seen you last night, you know. He's so good at hiding everything; and you're, well, you blush a lot anyway so it's pretty easily disguised."

Cass looked up at Dagonet. _He's_ fine_ with Tristan and I being... together?_ she thought. A wave of relief washed over her and she couldn't stop herself from giving Dagonet a small smile. _He's _really_ fine with it_. She felt so stupid then, unable to figure out why she had gotten so worked up about Dagonet's reaction.

"Thank you, Dagonet," Cass said after a pause.

He looked at her quizzically and almost asked what she was thanking him for. Dagonet didn't though, as in that moment, Lancelot emerged from his room with his hair looking slightly ruffled.

Their attention was drawn immediately to him, and Dagonet said quietly, "We'll talk later."

They both turned to Lancelot, who smiled at them in greeting as he shut his door. The three of them began walking to the tavern, and Cass couldn't help but risk a glance at Tristan's door as they passed it. She knew he wasn't there, that he was most likely out scouting, but she stole a fleeting look anyway. Cass noticed that Lancelot seemed rather pleased with himself as they walked down the street.

Apparently Dagonet did too, as he asked Lancelot, "Have a good night last night?"

With a wink and his trademark smirk, Lancelot answered, "Of course. Don't I always? Besides, you know _women_-"

"You know, Lancelot, I'd rather like to be spared of the details if you wouldn't mind," Cass interrupted, before he could properly begin.

He smirked at her, but acquiesced to her request. Dagonet gave her a sideways glance, his eyebrows raised.

She whispered to him, so quietly that only he would hear, "But _I_ don't talk about it... Not _that_- Not that we've- I mean- We _haven't_- Not that it's- Oh. _Shit_."

Cass felt her cheeks get hot as she blushed, and she stopped talking immediately, unable to climb out of the hole that she'd just dug for herself. Dagonet smiled and managed to hold back the laugh that threatened. Thankfully for Cass, Lancelot remained oblivious to their little conversation.

They entered the tavern and found that they were the first there, even Vanora was absent. Cass, Dagonet and Lancelot each took their seats at the table. Conversation was in a lull though, because Lancelot wasn't allowed to talk about what he'd been doing after he left the tavern, and Cass certainly wasn't going to tell him what she'd been doing.

"So Cass," Lancelot began.

She turned her head to him.

"How does learning to fight with us compare to learning at your... home?"

Cass blinked. She thought it was a little strange a question for him to have asked her, but answered anyway.

"Well, you're all _much _better teachers."

_Sorry, Mr Green,_ she thought, even though she knew that her fencing teacher was no comparison to the Knights.

"I think it's because it actually means something here though. In my time-"

She paused, cursing herself for forgetting that she shouldn't say _time_. Cass looked around momentarily, just to make certain that no one had heard her say time. _Even if they did, they'll think I just made a mistake- or am just crazy. Never mind. Forget that you said it._

"Where I'm from, there's a different kind of war. Weapons are different. Apparently, real fighting, with _real_ weapons, is outdated."

Cass didn't get to explain what she meant properly to the two Knights though. She wasn't given the chance. Vanora appeared behind her and dragged her off to the bar top. Cass barely had time to breathe before the woman started speaking.

"Well?" she said, expectantly.

"Well what?" Cass replied, feigning ignorance.

"What's going on between you and Tristan? What happened after he kissed you?"

Cass blushed at the reminder of the kisses that Vanora knew about, _and_ the ones she didn't. Cass didn't know where to start. What could she say to her? _Maybe it would've been easier if she'd done a Dagonet and just seen us together_, she thought.

"Erm... Well, we... Well I went to see him afterwards... in the stable... and Galahad left me there. And we sort of... From there we... I mean, we..."

Vanora could tell that it was going to take Cass a very long time to explain herself, and so interjected.

"Cass... Are you trying to tell me that you and Tristan are _involved_?"

After a moment, Cass nodded slowly. The red-haired woman before her grinned and hugged Cass to her. And she wouldn't let go for quite a while.

"Erm, Vanora? ...Why are you hugging me?" she asked quietly.

Vanora pulled back and looked at the girl, still grinning at her. Cass was becoming thoroughly confused.

"Oh nothing. It's just nice to see that everything worked out between you two. But why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Vanora's voice had turned sterner at the last question and Cass felt like one of her children, being rebuked for doing something bad.

"I was going to, I just... Well... You can probably tell that I'm not very good at talking about things like this," Cass finished lamely.

Vanora let out a small giggle at Cass' comment.

"Well I think you found the perfect partner in emotional inarticulation then."

That made Cass smile. _Yes, I suppose she's got me there,_ she thought.

"So I guess that makes you like me then," Vanora said, as more of a statement than anything else.

Cass blinked. _Does it? Am _I_ like Vanora now?_ She was with Tristan now, she supposed, so did that mean that things would change? Cass was even more unsure of things than she had been when she lay awake in bed earlier that morning.

Her attention was drawn away from her thoughts though, when she saw Arthur and the rest of the Knights arrive. Tristan was there, behind the others and his eyes caught hers immediately. Cass saw them turn to Vanora and back to her again. Cass nodded to him, revealing to him that she had told Vanora, even though she knew that he'd probably have guessed by the grin on the older woman's face.

"Erm, Vanora?"

The woman turned to Cass.

"Please don't say anything. I don't know if I'm quite ready for _everyone _know."

Vanora's brow furrowed. She couldn't fathom what reason the girl would have to want to keep things quiet. But Vanora didn't realise how much Cass hated to be stared at. And Cass knew that if everyone knew that she and Tristan were together, everyone would be curious as to whom it was that broke the demeanour of the mysterious Sarmatian scout. Vanora nodded anyway though, deciding that it was Cass' decision.

"Thank you," Cass said, before she left the woman to return to the table.

"What was that all about?" Lancelot asked as she sat down.

Cass didn't know what to say, but she caught Tristan's eye for a moment and then replied, "Girl stuff."

Lancelot still looked a little curious, but he said nothing else. Everyone at the table began eating almost as soon as Cass sat down, and it looked to Cass as if they had been waiting for her. She almost smiled at the gesture. When they were done, Arthur and the Knights stood and started to move away. Cass wondered if that meant that the Knights' protective rule over her had ended, but the small touch on her shoulder told her otherwise. Cass stood, and, though she was still almost a head smaller than Tristan, looked into his glinting brown eyes.

"Come with me," he said quietly, with a small tilt of his head.

Tristan led her from the tavern before she could even question him. Cass looked at him blankly as they walked, unsure of where he was taking her, but something about the route they were taking through the Fort seemed familiar to Cass.

"Tristan, where are...?"

A look from him stopped her from finishing her sentence. As they rounded the next corner however, Cass could tell where they were going. She stopped in the middle of the street; or she would've done, if his hand hadn't reached out for hers and pulled her along with him.

"Tristan, you know I'm not good with horses," Cass said as Tristan dragged her through the stable doors.

There was no one else inside when Tristan closed the door, standing between Cass and her exit. She half-frowned at him as he guided her back over to the fifth stall on the right, the one where his horse was. The dappled grey horse just stared at her. Cass stood with her back pressed up against the wall of the stall while Tristan stroked the horse's muzzle. He said something that Cass couldn't quite hear. It wasn't meant for her, but for the horse.

He then started to saddle his horse. Cass just watched him do it, dreading that this meant they were going somewhere on the horse. Her only consolation for that thought was that at least she'd have Tristan to keep her from falling off. After a while, Tristan turned back to her, the glint still flickering in his eyes. He beckoned her forward, but she didn't move. She didn't really want to get any closer than necessary to the horse in the same stall as her.

When he saw that she wasn't going to come to him, Tristan moved closer to her and took both of Cass' hands in his. She reluctantly came forward into his almost-embrace as he led her further from the wall. He half-pulled her into a kiss and Cass' cheeks immediately rouged. She pulled back from his lips with a sharp intake of breath as she felt his hands leave hers and move to trace the line of her waist; finally leaving them to rest on her hips.

The corners of his lips turned upwards slightly as he seized his opportunity and lifted Cass into the saddle of his horse. She stared at him almost incredulously as he released her, leaving her sat, alone, atop of his horse.

"Oh, that's just _cruel_. You tricked me!" Cass said in a low voice, scowling at the Knight standing beside her.

"Please at least help me get down?"

Tristan shook his head slowly and took a step backward so that Cass couldn't even grab hold of him to get herself down. Her attempt only succeeded in almost making her fall, and after that she simply frowned and grasped tightly to the front of the saddle.

"Tristan, why am I even on your horse?" Cass asked eventually.

"You're going to ride her," he answered simply.

Cass blinked.

"I'm going to do _what_?"

Tristan took hold of the horse's reins and, with one last look at Cass, he led them forward. Cass' knuckles were white with how hard she had been gripping the saddle. Any minute and she was sure she would fall off, or the horse would throw her off, or that, in general, she would just somehow end up on the floor. Cass didn't fall however- much to her surprise.

More than once, Tristan guided her around the stable in a wide circle. She almost felt like a child, a little girl on her first riding lesson. But she was eighteen years old, and extremely uncomfortable sitting on a horse that she still didn't think liked her. Tristan stopped them and looked up at Cass.

"You should calm down. When you're nervous, so is she," he told her.

The rest of the time that he half-forced her to stay on his horse, Tristan tried to get Cass to take some control of the horse, by handing her the reins. But Cass was still not happy, and, even though she tried to follow Tristan's advice, the horse didn't seem to want to do anything she wanted it to. _At least she hasn't thrown me off_, Cass thought over and over again, just hoping that she hadn't jinxed herself by thinking it.

"Why are you making learn to ride, Tristan?" she asked after what felt like an extremely long time, tilting her head to him.

He mimicked her gesture, and finally helped her down from his horse. She looked relieved; it was written plainly on her face. She stood close to him, barely inches caverned between them. He almost smiled at her, but chose to answer her first, in his deep, quiet voice.

"You'll be a lot safer if you can ride."

Cass frowned and questioned him, "What do you mean?"

He paused. He never usually said things like that- he never usually said much at all- let alone explained himself.

"Just so if you need to, you can," he replied slowly.

She looked at him, and he looked back into her eyes, until the confusion there had melted away. Cass let out a long breath and half smiled at him. She couldn't fault his reasons; even if she didn't like having to ride his horse. He always seemed to be doing things for her benefit, and she owed him so much for it.

Cass turned her head upwards to face Tristan. Her right hand reached up, her fingers caressing the peculiar tattoo upon his cheek. He closed his eyes at her touch, leaning his head into her hand. Tristan turned his head down to meet her waiting lips.

Their kiss was short, and once more interrupted. Cass almost longed for a kiss between them that _would_ go uninterrupted by something or other. Cass' cheeks blushed a deep red when she noticed that what had interrupted them this time was a laugh that Cass instantly recognised.

She and Tristan broke apart from each other to see the familiar smirk on the face of the Knight in the doorway. Lancelot's eyebrows were raised, and when he finally managed to stop laughing, it looked as though there was a question on his tongue. He didn't ask it, whatever it was.

Lancelot merely shook his head, and, through his smirk, instead said, "I would _love _to hear how this happened... _But _I think you should probably tell everyone- before I do anyway."

He winked and added, "It'll save you explaining it twice."

Cass' eyes flickered back to Tristan and she mumbled, too low for Lancelot to hear, "Or four times..."


	28. Rip The Plaster Off Quickly

Cass walked beside Tristan as Lancelot led the way to the tavern. She was glad that Tristan hadn't disappeared and left her to face the others, as he so easily could have. Cass almost wished that they both _had _disappeared. _It'd be much easier if Lancelot just told everyone... _she thought. Cass fiddled with her sleeve nervously as they walked. She couldn't see Lancelot's face, but she was sure that he still plainly wore his trademark smirk.

Their arrival in the tavern was met with smiles and nods from Vanora, Arthur and the other Knights. Most of them looked as if they wanted to say something, but when Lancelot held up his hands, no one said anything, but all looked on inquisitively.

"Before anybody says anything, I believe our scout has something to report," Lancelot said, turning his head back to Cass and Tristan, one eyebrow raised.

All eyes turned to Tristan, all eyes except from Cass', whose eyes found Vanora's. Vanora sighed as she realised immediately what had happened from the way Cass looked at her. After a barely noticeable nod from Vanora, Cass turned to the man on her right. Tristan's face was bare of all emotion, he would give nothing away. He simply stared at Lancelot. Tristan was a man of action, Cass knew, but she soon realised that he must find this as hard as she found telling Vanora.

It was Vanora though, that saved both Cass and Tristan from answering, when she interrupted the silence, "Lancelot, are you trying to make a big deal about the fact that Tristan and Cass are together? Because honestly, I thought you were just a little more mature than my five year old."

Dagonet's laugh was the only one to be heard at the revelation, for he had already known. Lancelot looked a little disappointed that Tristan wasn't the one that had to tell the others, but that melted away with the return of his smirk. Galahad and Gawain almost looked doubtful and half-confused as they looked from Tristan to Cass and back again. Bors however, did not seem doubtful, but instead came up beside Tristan and slapped him on the back, his laugh beginning as Dagonet's calmed. Tristan merely turned his head and glared at Bors- not that even that could stop him from laughing.

Arthur seemed to be considering something; that was clear from the look in his eyes, but he said nothing; showed neither approval nor disapproval. For her part, Cass' cheeks had turned a bright red, and she simply stood next to Tristan, wishing that the pair of them could be anywhere else. She couldn't help but feel a little awkward that she and Tristan had unfortunately become the centre of attention. That had been exactly what she'd hoped to avoid.

It almost made her feel sick, so much so that she found herself whispering to Tristan, "Tristan, I need to... I don't feel well; I'll be back in a minute."

She turned; her stomach in knots. But Cass' arm was grabbed and she was pulled back before she had the chance to leave.

"You're not getting away that easily," Lancelot said as he dragged her back to where she had stood only seconds before.

Cass grimaced and replied, "Lancelot, if you don't let go of my arm within the next ten seconds, I may just be sick on you."

Lancelot let go of Cass' arm almost as soon as she'd said that, and Cass rushed from the tavern. She only went as far as around the back wall of the tavern, but that was enough. Just so that no one was looking at her. Cass leant against the wall behind her and stared at the floor. She took a few deep breaths and tried to calm the feeling in her stomach that made her breakfast want to make a reappearance. It only worked after a solid five minutes of just leaning on the wall and breathing.

Just as she had managed to feel a little better, she noticed a pair of feet intrude on the perfectly empty patch of ground that she'd been staring at. Cass looked up; her black hair flicking in ringlets at the sudden movement. Tristan stood before her; she almost could have guessed that it was him before she looked up. She hadn't thought about it until she'd looked up at him, but she realised that her rushing from the tavern may have appeared strange to everyone there.

"I... I'm sorry Tristan. I just... I felt really... I don't like being looked at," Cass said eventually, after struggling to express her feelings.

Tristan gave a short nod almost as soon as she'd said that. He understood what she meant. He would have preferred their relationship to have stayed the way it was for a little longer. At least when only Vanora and Dagonet knew, Tristan knew that they'd keep their mouths shut about it. Now that the others knew, they'd both have to suffer through the Knights' constant prattle and jibing, just as Bors and Vanora did. Tristan knew that his days of being simply ignored and tolerated by the others had most likely just ended.

Cass watched the man in front of her. Though his face was blank, she could tell that he was thinking about something intently. He seemed to realise that she was watching him, as he took hold of her hand and tilted his head in the direction of the tavern. Cass realised what he meant and shook her head.

"Can't we just leave them for a bit? I mean, we don't have to go straight back in there _now_ do we?"

The corner of Tristan's lips turned slightly upward, and the glint in his eyes told Cass that they were going to have to go back into the tavern, whether she liked it or not. _It's the horse all over again,_ she thought. _Get it over and done with then. Rip the plaster off quickly, I suppose._ Tristan took Cass back around to the front of the tavern, and she was too busy hiding behind Tristan to see if anyone was looking at her now. Her cheeks were extremely red, and she knew that her blush wasn't going to fade anytime soon.

Tristan left her in her seat and she looked at the table in front of her, purposefully avoiding looking at anyone seated around it. She had never before noticed the dark coloured wood that the table was made of, and just as she began pondering pointlessly on what type of wood the table was made of, a voice forced her out of her self-distraction.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," she heard Lancelot say over the table.

Cass knew that she couldn't ignore him; besides, she could hear in his voice that his meaning was genuine. She looked at him, and when their eyes met, she could also see that he meant his apology and so nodded to him. Cass wondered what had been said that made him apologise, it certainly couldn't just have been that she'd felt sick and run out of the tavern.

"So... _Aside_ from that _interesting_ news," Gawain began.

Cass sighed.

"Let's get back to why we're all here."

_Why we're all here? What _is_ he talking about_, Cass wondered to herself. Gawain picked something up from the floor beside him. Something thin and longer than Cass' arm, covered in a dark material. She stared at it as Gawain placed the mystery item on the table in front of her. She looked up at him, clearly confused, and he just smiled back.

"A late birthday present," Galahad said from beside him.

Cass blinked. She felt her cheeks get hotter again, and knew that if she hadn't been blushing already, then she definitely would have been now.

There was a tone of confusion and half-sadness in her voice as Cass replied, "But... But why? You didn't have to; I mean, you shouldn't have. You've all already done so much for me. I-"

"Just take it," Bors said; his voice loud through the grin on his face.

It wasn't that Cass didn't want to take their gift; she just felt like the Knights kept doing things for her, and she felt that she could do nothing in return for them. When she finally made herself unravel the material, Cass gasped. Inside, she saw twin swords. They were absolutely beautiful. And they looked like they were made for her. Cass' fingers wrapped around the hilts of the swords and she lifted them. They were light, much lighter than the sword she'd been using since she arrived at the Fort.

"They're beautiful," she whispered, mesmerised by the detail of the swords in her hands.

It took Cass a moment to tear her eyes from the swords; and when she did, she saw that everyone was looking at her once more. She felt her cheeks darken again, and the prickling of threatening tears.

"Thank you..." Cass said eventually.

"Thank you so much..." she whispered, over her overwhelming sense of emotion.

"I think she's going to cry," Cass heard Lancelot whisper to Arthur.

Cass took a breath and blinked back the tears that still threatened. She turned her head to Lancelot and frowned at him.

Jokingly, she replied, "Shut up Lancelot. I'm a girl; we're allowed to be emotional."

Lancelot smirked and shrugged his shoulders at her. The night went on for a long time and was filled with drinking and much laughter. Cass was enjoying one night of just sitting with the Knights, and not working. She knew that she'd have liked it more if she'd have been sat next to Tristan, but her evening was brightened when it was time for her to return to her room. Tristan appeared by Cass side to walk her home. She smiled at him and went with him readily.

They walked in silence for a while, perfectly contended with each other's company. When they were half way to the building that housed both Tristan and Cass' rooms, Cass' hand reached out for Tristan's. She said nothing as their hands enclosed around each other's, but simply smiled. Cass couldn't be sure; but in the darkness, she thought she could see him smiling too.

**Author's Note:** Okay, so this section of this chapter went on longer than I thought it would, so I thought I'd update with this now, and finish what was meant to be this chapter at some point tomorrow. :)

Kit xx


	29. Two Left Feet

Tristan was leaning against his tree; and Cass was half leaning against him. They were waiting for the other Knights to arrive on the training hill, but neither was in a rush for them to arrive. Even though she had been embarrassed at all the attention the previous night had forced upon them both, Cass was glad that she _could _sit next to Tristan like she was now, with his arm around her shoulder. It was the most comfortable that Cass had been in a long while, _even if_ she had a large root sticking into her backside.

The day was nice, though seemingly odd for a day so close to winter. The wind was sparse, more like a gentle tickle on the skin of those it touched. The sun was shining down on them through breaks in the wispy clouds above. It was almost as if the weather and mild temperature had settled to give Cass a perfect day to train with her new swords. They lay by her side, sheathed; just waiting to be used.

It was Tristan that noticed the others climbing the hill, ready to train, and he nodded to them. The Knights nodded back, and Cass smiled at them. She smiled, that is, until Lancelot reached the top of the hill, with eyebrows raised at her and the quiet Knight in whose arms she rested. When she saw the expression on his face, her smile turned into a joking frown and she rolled her eyes at him. Lancelot laughed in return and Cass felt her cheeks go slightly red. She was about to stand up and join the other Knights, but before she could, Cass felt Tristan's lips on the top of her head. It was only a small movement, and it was only noticed by Cass and Lancelot.

"If you're _quite_ finished," Lancelot began with a smirk as he unsheathed his swords.

Cass looked up at him, her cheeks now a deep red colour.

He winked at her and continued, "I'd quite like to see what you can do with your birthday presents."

As she was about to get up, Cass felt Tristan do the same. In fact, he was standing before she was, and he helped her to her feet. She smiled, holding his eyes for a second, and thanked him in a whisper. Cass bent to pick up her swords and turned back to Lancelot. She unsheathed her swords and moved away from _Tristan's Tree_, extremely aware that Tristan's eyes remained on her. Cass knew that she couldn't think about that though, or she'd soon enough end up on her backside again. _At least the other Knights are busy training themselves and not watching me this time_, she thought.

Cass tried to focus completely on the swords in her hands. She was glad that they were light; they were more like the sword she used back in the 21st Century. And she found them much more easily manoeuvrable. She began sparring with Lancelot and was almost surprised at how much better she was with swords that she could handle; swords that were made for her. Cass managed to block every strike that Lancelot made from the beginning, though she knew he was still going easy on her.

With one strike Lancelot started to move faster; his movements quick, sharp and swift. Cass found it difficult to keep up; but she did. Even when the breathing of both participants was heavier and neither knew how long they had been sparring for, they still continued. Dodging one of Lancelot's blows, Cass found herself with her back to Lancelot. She turned, swords raised, ready to continue.

Her swords did not meet Lancelot's though; they met Tristan's sword. She'd never seen Tristan's sword before, and in the moment that they stood with swords locked together, Cass examined it. It was long and curved slightly at the end. It almost reminded her of a Dao. She had no more time to look though, as Tristan swung his sword away.

They circled each other; Cass wouldn't be the first to strike. Her best chance, she knew, was to just defend herself against his attacks and perhaps wait for an opportunity herself. Cass had no chance of beating Tristan though. She had heard how good he was at fighting. _Don't get distracted, Cass_, she told herself as she waited and watched the man in front of her.

Tristan made the first move. He was quick and his swing was smooth; the power behind it as it met Cass' swords pushed her backward. She recovered well; blocking the next strike, and the next. Cass knew that she couldn't keep it up though. Tristan moved as if he was dancing, and Cass felt like she had two left feet. She held her own for only minutes more, until Tristan had managed to knock one sword from her hand, and then the other. With the second sword went Cass too.

She landed on her back with a thump. She made no move to get up though. Cass just jay there on the soft, if slightly worn, grass, staring at the wispy clouds in the sky above. Her breathing was still heavy; her heart was beating so hard that it was like it was knocking against her ribcage. She did something that no one expected next though. She started laughing.

Lancelot looked at her as if she'd gone slightly mad; and to anyone who looked close enough, through his blank expression, concern could be seen in Tristan's eyes. Cass rolled over and pushed herself off of the ground, still giggling to herself. Her cheeks were bright red, but when she turned back to Tristan and Lancelot, she was still smiling. They clearly didn't understand what she found so funny.

"Well, it's just... I knew that was going to happen at _some _point today, and I _still_ missed that coming."

Neither man seemed to see the funny side and Cass simply shook her head at them as she picked up her swords. She sheathed them and sat with her back against _Tristan's Tree._ Her breath was only just levelling out- her laughter didn't do much to help her regain it. _Perhaps _I'll _just sit and watch for once, _Cass thought as her eyes trailed the Knights in front of her. Tristan and Lancelot had begun sparring with each other.

Cass had fought with both men, but until she saw them fighting each other, she had not known just how great they were. Both had been going easy on her. Against each other, knowing each other's strengths and weaknesses as they did, Lancelot and Tristan's swift, fluid movements were mesmerising. Mesmerising and deadly.

The other Knights were busy training too. It seemed that they had paired off as Cass could have guessed that they would have. Galahad and Gawain. Bors and Dagonet. Arthur wasn't there, Cass noted, but he was almost always busy. Just as she had thought that though, Cass noticed a figure walking up the hill. Sure enough, it was Arthur. Cass smiled. It was nice to see them all together. All of the Knights stopped what they were doing when they saw Arthur, and looked to him as if they were expecting some news. Arthur shook his head and every man seemed to relax slightly. Cass was confused, but didn't question them... Yet. She made a plan to ask Tristan later.

She did not have to wait long though, to be alone with Tristan, as on Arthur's arrival Tristan relinquished his sparring partner to Lancelot's usual opponent. Tristan and Cass went away from the hill then, both had had enough. Or Cass had, and Tristan wanted to take her elsewhere. As they walked back into the Fort, Cass questioned him about Arthur's nod. Tristan exhaled before he answered.

"The Woads are restless to the West, if they attack another village we'll have to go."

Cass swallowed.

"So... So Arthur's nod was saying that there's been no news then?"

Tristan nodded. Cass was glad; very glad. She didn't want the Knights to have to leave on a mission again. She never _had_ wanted them to, but she remembered the nightmares she'd had about Tristan before. She knew that they'd be worse the next time they left. And she knew that the possibility of her nightmares becoming reality became greater with each mission he went on.

They went to the stable, and Cass sighed. She had known that that was where they were headed as soon as they turned that familiar corner, but she wasn't as reluctant this time. Cass was still nervous of the horse; her knuckles were still white from the strength of her grip on the saddle and, eventually, the reins. Tristan wouldn't let anything happen to her though, and the horse listened to him, so she took some manner of comfort in that.

Tristan spent at least an hour trying to get Cass to learn the basic directional skills of horse riding. She _needed_ the hour. But after it was over, Cass could proudly say that she'd managed to get Tristan's horse to walk and to turn right and left. She hadn't quite managed stop yet though. Tristan had had to help her there.

After all that Cass could take with the dappled grey creature that didn't seem to understand the meaning of stop, Tristan and Cass went back to their own rooms. Cass changed into her red dress quickly, and belted her swords around her waist again. She still hadn't gotten over her fear of going out without a weapon- even_ with_ Tristan and the other Knights there.

She met Tristan outside his door, and smiled as she saw him. They walked beside each other to the tavern. Cass just liked being with him, even in silence. If she was going to be losing him to another mission in perhaps days, she was going to savour the moments she had with him.

The night wore on quickly, and the sun rays creeping through layers of wispy cloud turned smoothly into moonbeams in an eerie mist. The temperature dropped quickly, and Cass shivered slightly as she went about her work, regretting not bringing her cloak. _Now _this_ is more like British winter weather_, she grumbled to herself.

The tavern had quieted later in the evening, and most of its occupants had departed. The Knights remained though, sat at their corner table. They were joined by a girl on Lancelot's knee- a _different_ girl to the last one Cass had seen him with- and a girl on Gawain's knee. From across the tavern, Cass could see them all, laughing and smiling, but she couldn't hear their conversation.

"So, how _is_ it that you and Cass are together?" a slightly drunken Galahad asked Tristan.

His question was met with a blank stare from Tristan, but a laugh from Lancelot. Tristan's eyes turned on him and the Knight elaborated.

"Well, he's got a point," Lancelot said, with his usual smirk.

Tristan said nothing and simply stared at the curly-haired Knight. Tristan wasn't going to explain; but moreover, he didn't need to. And no matter of questioning or teasing from Lancelot or the others had ever, or _would_ ever, make him feel the need to explain himself.

"Between _her_ embarrassment and _your_ silence, I just wonder how it's possible."

Tristan was spared having the conversation continued as Cass and Vanora joined the Knights at the corner table. Cass brought Tristan his nightly apple, and the idea sparked in Tristan's mind that might just stop Lancelot before he involved Cass in his teasing. As he took the apple from her delicate fingers, Tristan stood. Bending his head to her, he pulled her to him into a fierce kiss, and he knew that she hadn't been expecting it.

When he drew back, his eyes met the very confused, blue eyes of the girl in front of him. Her cheeks were a bright red, and he knew that he'd just made her feel uncomfortable- not because of his kiss, but because it meant that everyone would be looking at her; and that she wouldn't like that. But he was sure that his kiss had caused her less embarrassment than what Lancelot would have done with his teasing. He took her hand, and led her from the tavern before anyone could say anything. When they were out of sight of the tavern, Cass stopped, confused by what had just happened.

"Tristan, wait... What...?"

Tristan turned back to her and tilted his head. Even though he didn't need to explain himself to Lancelot and the others, he took a moment to think of an explanation for Cass. He felt as if he owed her one.

After a while he began, "...Lancelot..."

He couldn't think of an end to his explanation, but something dawned in Cass' expression and she saved him from elaborating.

"I can... pretty much guess where that's going."

She smiled at him and gave the hand holding hers a slight squeeze. Cass was genuinely relieved that he had kissed her and dragged her out of the tavern. She knew how Lancelot could be when it came to relationships, and _teasing_. And Tristan had managed to get them out of there _before_ he could begin.

"Thanks... for getting us out of there before... you know..." she said quietly.

Tristan just looked at the small girl in front of him, and his lips curled into a small smile. He'd swear that she'd been the only person who he'd ever known that had understood him. Or that she was the only person that had ever tried.

**Author's Note:** Hi guys, right, I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed for their reviews. They make me EXTREMELY happy. :D

And basically, I've written the next chapter- it's been written for a long time- and I'll update it asap, IF this chapter can get five reviews. :) Anyways, so if you guys want to make me happy, then I can make you guys happy. :)

Kit xx


	30. To Break Or Not To Break

The news that Tristan and the other Knights might have to go on a mission brought Cass' nightmares back thick and fast. There were more this time too. More disturbed dreams that seemed so real that it was as if she'd seen them before. But _really _seen them. They made no sense though. The Knights _weren't_ dead. All the same, she woke up screaming again. The images replayed in her waking mind.

Dagonet.

_A deep breath as he put down his sword. A battle cry as he picked up his axe. Running. The clang of metal on ice. The shouts of a man not so far off, yelling "Kill him!" over and over. The thunder of breaking ice. The arrows that hit him, though he continued to strike. The moment Dagonet fell through the ice with one last uneven breath._

Lancelot.

_The blow he blocked from killing a woman that Cass recognised though did not remember. An even fight. Hitting the ground. Knocking his opponent back. Finding a new one. Turning around and an arrow piercing his heart. A breath in which he saw his first opponent smiling. His grimace and final roar as he threw his sword forward, into the man who'd shot him. The way he knelt, clutching his chest and crawled towards the man, both refusing to die until the other was dead. His twin sword slicing through the man's neck. The way Lancelot fell to the side, taking his last jagged breaths as his eyes flickered closed._

Tristan.

_The way he moved, eyes fixed on his enemy. He pushed off his helmet, letting it fall to the floor. His first strike, smooth, as he fought the man before him. A hidden knife slicing his chest. A breath taken as he felt the blood. The fight continued until the knife struck again, first the blade to his leg, then the handle to his head._

_His sword still raised as he fought to stand. A strike that made him drop it. His opponent kicking it back to him. His last attempt before he was knocked down; his breathing rough, near coughing with blood. The man's face as he picked up Tristan's sword and then Tristan, by the hair. __The knife in Tristan's arm removed and plunged in to the man's leg_. The sword entering Tristan's side. _A hawk circling in the smoky sky above him. The final blow of a sword slashing his body. Blood spraying like rain drops to stain the earth. The light leaving Tristan's eyes as he smiled into death._

She'd had that last nightmare before, but it was so much worse this time. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her breathing was ragged; uncontrollable. She couldn't calm herself down while her mind lingered on those images. She tried to turn her thoughts to _why_ she'd seen them instead.

She couldn't figure out _how_ she'd seen these things, let alone _why_. Or why they gave her such a horrible sense of déjà vu. Cass could only hope that soon she would remember. Though she wasn't really sure that she _wanted_ to know the answer to that mystery.

Her fingers curled around the plastic casing of the photograph attached to her key ring. Cass pulled it out from under her pillow and went over to light the candle on the table. She looked at the faces of her parents in the picture, so happy and smiling. The photograph brought back another nightmare; one that she didn't remember seeing before; but one that hurt her just as much as the rest had.

_Tristan left Cass with a kiss. She was happy as she lie down in her bed and fell asleep, happier than she had ever felt before. As her eyes opened the next morning, they opened to a familiar sight. Tears crept into her eyes as she woke up in her room, her room in the 21__st__ Century. She ran downstairs, free flowing tears rolling down her cheeks and a gasp caught in her throat. Her parents acted as if nothing had happened, like they thought she'd gone crazy when she tried to explain. It was as if she _had_ found her way out of that forest that day. But she hadn't. She knew that she hadn't. She _knew_._

_Her life was unchanged, but there was so much in her that had changed that only she knew of. All she could think about was how she was in the wrong place. All she could think about was Tristan. And how she'd never see him again. Cass just sat in her room, staring at nothing. For weeks. Months. She couldn't _do_ anything. Her life was so pointless._

Cass stopped thinking then; and she placed the key ring immediately on the tabletop. She couldn't bear it. It had always been in the back of her mind that her getting back to the 21st Century was a possibility; but she had no idea how much she really _needed_ to be in this time, with the Knights. With Tristan. She couldn't live back in the 21st Century knowing that she couldn't get back to them; to him. She couldn't. Cass knew that she had to do something, and the only thing she could think to do was breaking her heart.

It took her twice as long dress as it usually did. To even locate her clothes through her bleary, water-filled eyes was harder than it should have been. Her fingers fumbled with the material as she stripped and changed into the first dress she found.

Cass sat down on her bed and slipped into her boots; she'd want them if she needed, like she thought she might, to make a quick exit in case she couldn't handle what she had to do. Cass knotted the laces tightly, only barely managing not to tangle her fingers in them. This night was not her night; and it was only going to get worse.

Cass closed her eyes for a moment; thinking. It was a mistake. She flinched as her mind pictured Tristan's face, blank of all emotion, then flicked to the depressed shadow of herself in the 21st Century. What she was doing had to be done. There was no way that she could become that girl from her dream. She had to stop things before that happened, though it killed her to think that she had to. Cass just hoped that Tristan would understand.

She took a deep and jagged breath, before pushing herself from her bed and forcing herself to the door. Her fingers were cold as they wrapped around the door handle, but she didn't notice. Cass stepped out into the dark corridor, leaving the flickering light of her small candle behind. She looked to Tristan's door. Only hours before, the sight would have made her smile, now it made her want to cry again.

Cass bit back her tears and made her way over to Tristan's door while she still had courage enough to do so. For minutes, all she did was stand outside his door in the pitch darkness, unable to make herself move to knock on the wood. She let out a long breath and steeled herself for what she would have to do, knowing that her resolve was already close to crumbling.

Tristan appeared almost as soon as her knock had sounded. His own room lit with the light of a flickering candle, Tristan stood in his doorway in a simple shirt and trousers. His brow creased as he saw the girl before him, her eyes stained with tears only just now below the surface. She didn't move, or say anything, but merely looked hopelessly at the Knight, her words on the tip of her tongue, but unwilling to spill free. He took her hand and pulled Cass into his room, closing the door behind them. Tristan had no idea what was wrong with Cass, but his immediate thoughts led him to the most obvious thing.

"Are you hurt?" he said, through his frown.

Cass closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. _How can I tell him?_ she thought desperately as she looked back up at him. Tristan was confused. He didn't understand what was wrong and cursed himself for never being very good with people.

"What's wrong?" he asked; it was the only thing that he _could_ ask.

There was a long silence before she shook her head slightly.

"I'm fine... Tristan..."

Cass's voice faltered as she began. Tristan noticed and his frown deepened. She couldn't do it. She couldn't tell him; but she knew she had to. His hand cupped her cheek, and as she leant into his palm her mind flickered back to the empty eyes of the girl from her dream. She had no chance to say anything before Tristan's lips were on hers, in a kiss that was meant to be comforting.

Cass broke their kiss first, freeing her lips with a sort of sob. She couldn't do it. In an attempt to run from him, Cass turned. Tristan's hand caught her arm; his hand was a restraint unwilling to just let her leave. More than that, it was a grip of concern.

"Tristan... I can't... I can't do it."

He looked at her, the slight squeeze from his hand on her arm asking her why, refusing to let go until she answered him. Tristan manoeuvred himself between Cass and his door, staring her in the eye.

Her voice broke as she said, "I... You know I'm not..."

She took a breath and tried to continue, "I'm not from here... What if I just... wake up one day back in my time?"

She was breathing heavily as she continued, close to tears, "How could I live my life knowing that you're here...? That I'll never see you again?"

A tear rolled down her cheek, leaving a wet trail to mark its pathway down her pale flesh. A sort of pain crept into his eyes; those deep, brown, sorrow-filled eyes. He hated seeing her in pain, and it almost killed him to know that he was causing it. Cass forced herself to look away as his grip tightened around her arm.

"If I don't stop this now..."

She looked down, as if unwilling to let herself finish. A lump grew in her throat, large and unforgiving. She swallowed.

"I'll never be able to stop loving you."

He lifted her chin with a finger so that she had to look at him.

"So why are you trying so hard now?"

His deep voice was filled with a softness that made more tears spill like gentle waterfalls down her face.

"Please... I can't live with loving and then losing you... Tristan, please..."

Tristan pulled the girl into a kiss, his lips claiming hers in a surprise embrace. Both of their eyes closed; Cass wanted to remember his kiss- she was determined it would be their last. He was determined it wouldn't. As their kiss deepened, her resolve grew weak again. He wove his strong hands through her ebony curls, eventually gently grasping her face between his hands. Tristan pulled back from her, just enough so that their lips parted, though their foreheads still leaned together.

"I'm not going anywhere. Not without you."

Cass tried to back away, using the only willpower she had left, but Tristan pulled her back.

"Never," he whispered to her, praying to Arthur's God that she could hear the truth in his words.

"But... but what if I _do_ just disappear? Or... or if you go on a mission and... and you..." she choked on the last word.

He shook his head, more strands of his dark hair falling in front of his face. Through the slight curtain, she could see his eyes still twinkling with the spark he reserved only for her.

"Never," he repeated, holding the now-sobbing girl to him.

Whatever she had thought was going to happen, Tristan had one plan. Never to let go of this girl; the beautiful girl that had buried herself in his arms. Into his heart. He wasn't going to give her up as easily as Cass was trying to make him. He would have let her go, but he knew that she didn't really want him to; he could tell from the look in her eyes. She was just worried, and whatever it was that had made her feel this way, Tristan was determined to help her put it behind her.

Tristan had never been one to give up; and even if he had to march through hell, he was going to make sure that he and Cass stayed together.

**Author's Note:** Well guys, most of this chapter has been written for **so** long. I've just been waiting to get here for a long a while. Hope you like it! :)

Oh, and just because I had to watch Tristan die twice today to write some of this- I usually turn it off because I HATE that part of the movie- I was just curious to see if anyone else noticed that Cerdic killed Tristan with Tristan's sword? I was actually shocked. Made me hate the guy even more. D':

Kit xx


	31. Through Memory's Haze An Impossible Task

Tristan and Cass sat on the floor of his room until morning. He was leaning against the wooden footboard of his bed with his arms around her, and she lay with her head resting against his chest. They'd only sunk down to the floor because of Cass' crying; it was almost as if she hadn't been able to remain standing any longer. But they stayed there all night, neither sleeping; both just being.

For Tristan, it was a time taken to calm Cass down; to make her understand that whatever happened, he would find a way to make sure they stayed together. For Cass, it was a time taken to realise that whatever happened, if she ever did end up back in the 21st Century, she was already destined to become that girl she'd seen in her nightmare. It was too late; she knew now that she might as well spend her time with Tristan while she could.

It was well passed the time that Tristan usually departed on his morning scout of the area, but he wasn't going to leave Cass. He'd only just managed to convince her that they would stay together; he wasn't going to leave her now, not when she needed him. Cass fiddled with the material of Tristan's shirt, toying with the small creases beside where her head rested and simply stared out in front of her, not really looking at anything.

As the morning continued, and neither had moved for a long time, Cass shifted and sat up. She turned her gaze to Tristan, and a sad sort of smile crept onto her lips. Their hands found each other, and nothing needed to be said but Tristan knew that she was thanking him. She said it openly with her eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a knock on his door. Tristan turned his head. No one _ever _knocked on his door; but Cass did last night; and now?

Both Tristan and Cass stood, and Tristan went over to the door, reaching for a knife on the table beside it. He opened the door slowly, and realised that there was no need for his knife, as it was Dagonet who stood in the corridor. Dagonet saw Cass behind Tristan, and his hard expression seemed to soften.

"I knocked on Cass' door; I just wondered if you knew where she was; if she was okay... Clearly, you do, and she's fine," he added as he nodded in Cass' direction.

Cass had forgotten that Dagonet always came to take her to breakfast. She almost smiled that he had come straight to Tristan to check on her. Almost. The thought occurred to Cass that Dagonet finding her in Tristan's room so early in the morning might seem to be a little suggestive. She blushed; she couldn't help it. _Don't blush! That must make it look even worse! _she chastised herself, turning an even deeper shade of red.

"I'll just... leave you two _alone,_" Dagonet finished, leaving Tristan standing in the empty doorway.

Cass wanted to smack her head against the table next to Tristan as he closed the door. It wasn't that she had a problem with what people might think; it was the way they would look at her while they were thinking it that bothered her. Cass hated being stared at anyway, but she wasn't sure how she would manage if they were thinking about her- or even talking about her- in that sense. A thought struck her. _What if Lancelot finds out? That could possibly be the worst thing to _ever _happen, _she thought resignedly. _At least it was only Dagonet. He kept his mouth closed before, maybe he will again._ She made a plan to talk to him about it, to straighten things out.

"We should probably get some breakfast," Cass suggested, after hearing a sudden grumble from her stomach.

Tristan nodded, putting his knife on the table beside him and walking behind Cass. Her gaze followed him as she wondered what he was doing. She didn't have to wonder for long, as, with his back to Cass, Tristan lifted his shirt over his head. Cass felt her face burn, and she looked away immediately with a gasp; but not before her eyes caught sight of the scars that crossed his back. And there were a lot of them.

"Tristan, should I... Do you want me to wait outside?" she quietly asked the man behind her.

Cass felt a hand on her back and turned to see Tristan wearing a dark green shirt. She responded to the glint in his eyes with a small smile, and they began walking toward the tavern together. Cass' face was still slightly red as his hand remained on the small of her back.

When they arrived at the tavern, the Knights were already seated around the corner table. Dagonet's eyes met Cass' as Tristan pulled her chair out for her and she blushed again. She purposefully avoided looking at the other Knights when she heard their conversation drop momentarily. They must still have found Tristan's behaviour a little atypical of his normal self.

Tristan went to sit down and conversation between the Knights began again. Cass looked sideways at Dagonet, trying to inconspicuously explain herself. The last thing she wanted was for what Dagonet had seen, or what he thought he saw, to become the topic of the table's attention. So she whispered to him when the others were deep in conversation.

"We _weren't_, Dagonet. I'm not _that_ much of a hypocrite."

He merely smiled; a response that made Cass feel the need to prove her honesty.

"No _really,_ Dagonet... I had some nightmares... I just... didn't want to be on my own."

Dagonet's smile slipped slowly from his face, his expression becoming more serious. He sensed that she didn't want to discuss the nightmares she'd had, as she seemed almost totally lost in thought. Cass knew that she had technically just lied to Dagonet; but what she had tried to do the previous night was never leaving Tristan's room. She knew, in hindsight, that her trying to end things with Tristan had been a mistake. One that she didn't plan on ever making again.

After everyone had eaten, or had at least started to eat their breakfast, Jols appeared. He was greeted with smiles, nods and calls of greeting from everyone seated. Cass didn't know Jols very well; in fact she hadn't even seen him around the Fort very often, but the Knights seemed to like him, so she nodded to him. He smiled in return.

"Arthur's calling a meeting."

He didn't have to say any more than that, but the mood around the corner table darkened noticeably. All the Knights knew what this meant; even Cass did. The Knights stood, one by one following Jols to the conference room that housed the round table. Tristan was last, his hand brushing Cass' shoulders as he passed. She could only stare after him, her face as blank as his could be, a small blush lingering on her cheeks.

Cass tried to distract herself from what she knew was going to happen by helping Vanora. But she couldn't concentrate properly. And, as she passed Vanora, she noticed that the woman was wearing a similar expression to herself. Cass sighed. She knew now that she was right about the meeting. The Knights were going to have to go on a mission; and she was going to have to say goodbye to Tristan.

Bors was the first to return. He went to Vanora and Cass watched their goodbye unfold. His explanation was followed by a sad smile from Vanora. Then came a kiss that Cass almost felt the need to look away from; not out of embarrassment, but because the kiss was passionate and full of love, something that held a sense of privacy even in a place as public as the tavern. Bors left soon after, and Cass walked over to where Vanora was left standing. She heard the woman sigh.

"Well, at least he told me this time..."

A sideways glance at Vanora told Cass that they were going to both going to be as worried as each other. Vanora gave her a small smile and turned back to her work. Cass would have joined her, but in that moment, she saw Tristan heading her way. He was dressed as he was when she'd first seen him; his unusual armour, his cloak slung around his neck. He stopped in front of her, his expression, as usual, blank. Hers became a mixture of a frown and a miserable smile.

"It's kind of ironic really," she said sadly.

He tilted his head, questioning her to continue.

"Well, you just spent last night convincing me that we would stay together; and now you're being forced to leave."

Tristan's hand met her cheek and his head dipped to hers.

"I'm coming back," he said quietly, before he kissed her.

As he released her lips from their kiss, she replied in a sad whisper, "I know."

Tristan didn't want to leave Cass, not now. He knew he had too though; so he turned from the ebony-haired girl and walked quickly to the stable. Cass sighed slowly as she watched him go. _He _will _come back. He will,_ she thought as he disappeared. Vanora appeared at Cass' side and gave her a nudge with her elbow.

"Come on," she said.

"Let's go to the wall; we'll wave them off."

Cass nodded and followed Vanora to the wall. As they climbed the stone staircase up the side of the Wall, they heard the thundering of hooves through the Fort. They were just in time to see the Knights ride through the gates, Tristan, as normal, taking off in front of the others. Cass could almost have sworn that for the briefest of moments, Tristan looked back to where she was; but she dismissed it as they rode further away,

Cass and Vanora looked out from where they stood until the Knights were gone to the West. Vanora led Cass back to the tavern after a while, the atmosphere between them decidedly more melancholy. Both women worked the rest of the day, until the sky darkened and even the drunkest man had departed from the tavern. That was when Cass and Vanora sat down together at the Knights' table.

"I still don't understand how you do it, Vanora," Cass said as she fiddled with the apple in her hands.

It was the apple that she would have given to Tristan, had he been there. She'd eat it; eventually. For now though she just liked holding it; to her, the apple was a little reminder of him. Vanora sighed.

"Well... It's not easy."

She paused before continuing, "Tonight will be your worst night."

Cass' brow furrowed as she replied, "What do you mean?"

"Well, this is the first time that the Knights have gone away on a mission since you and Tristan... got together. Whatever you felt last time they went away, it'll be five times as bad tonight."

_Oh great... _Cass thought with even more of a frown.

"It won't get any better either. Not until just over a year."

"Why? In just over a year will I have developed some sort of immunity to it or something?" Cass asked almost disbelievingly.

"No," Vanora half-smiled back.

"But in just over a year the Knights will be free," she finished.

"...Oh..." Cass whispered.

She hadn't thought about that. The Knights would be free then- if they lived to see it. _Don't think like that, Cass_, she chastised herself. But they did have to live until their contractually obligated fifteen years were up. And something tugged at the back of her mind about that too. Some sort of memory was connected to the completion of those fifteen years, but one that she couldn't quite work out.

And then it hit her that where she couldn't remember what it was about that date of freedom for the Knights that worried her, there was a similar fuzzy haze in her memory of how she saw her nightmares. _What if they _are_ memories? _she wondered, her mind buzzing.

"Vanora..." Cass began, her voice still a whisper.

"Do you think that it's possible that... I mean, back in my time, there are... stories- _lots_ _of_ _stories_- about Arthur and the Knights... And I keep- I keep almost remembering things... Do you think that it's possible... that one of the stories I heard... was true...?"

Vanora blinked.

"What... I'm not sure... But... What sort of things do you... remember?" the woman asked with a confused frown.

Cass thought about it; her mind flicking into her memories, just trying to pick out the particular story that had found its way into her conscious mind. She tried to focus on the things that seemed familiar. The nightmares that may not be as imaginary as she hoped; the fifteen year contract; and, of course, the Knights... The _Sarmatian_ Knights. That was what caught her attention. It narrowed down the stories considerably, but Cass just couldn't make herself remember.

Cass shook her head and looked at Vanora as she said, "I don't know, Vanora... Maybe I'm just... Maybe I'm just being stupid or something..."

Vanora looked concerned, but she let the subject drop. The women talked for another half an hour, before Vanora decided that she'd better get home and check on her children. She bade Cass goodbye, and both women walked in their separate directions. When Cass arrived at the building that had become her home she pushed open the door slowly. It seemed so empty now that the Knights were gone. And she hated it.

Cass went through her usual motions when she arrived in her room. Changing into her makeshift pyjamas, spending time looking at the tiny photo that was all she had of her parents. She didn't want to go to sleep though. Cass lay in bed for over an hour, just staring at her ceiling. If, as Vanora had said, this night was to be the worst, then she didn't want to suffer what her nightmares brought.

She _did_ fall asleep though, when her tiredness became too much for her. And the nightmares _did_ come. First she saw the Knights as they were now, but those images of happiness turned horrifying as, one by one, she saw Dagonet, Lancelot and Tristan die. Cass couldn't wake up, even when tears were falling from her sleeping eyes. The images turned again, hazing into pictures of Vanora and her children; some things around the Fort that had been recognisable though she had not noticed, like the gates, and the stables. Then she saw more than she had seen in a nightmare but something she _had_ seen before; the face of a certain Bishop, a Woad ambush, a would-be freedom-

Cass shot bolt upright in her bed, her breathing terrifyingly uneven. But she knew now. She knew where these images were coming from. Cass just hoped she was wrong. The images she'd seen came from a film she'd seen; but she'd never thought that it could possibly be true until she really examined the similarities- or her nightmares had. Cass was scared now. She knew how that version of the tale ended.

But she wasn't going to let what happened there happen for real.

She started to doubt herself then though. She didn't even know if she was correct. She'd have to wait for the day the Knights were to be granted freedom to find out for sure. But she wanted to be sure. Cass had made up her mind. It was obvious to her, what she would do next.

When it was light enough, Cass dressed in her training clothes and strapped her swords to her waist, picking up a bow and quiver of arrows on her way out of the door. Her face was set in determination as she walked through the Fort. No one approached her or spoke to her, she was thankful for that, for she was in _no_ mood to deal with people.

Cass trained. And she trained _hard_. For the six longest days she had ever had, Cass was tormented by her nightmares in the evening and focussed all of her energy on training in the day. Her drive remained unbroken however. She was determined. And her mind was set on getting good enough to go with the Knights on their missions so that, when the time came, she could stop those terrible, nightmarish images from becoming reality.

On the seventh day, early in the morning, when Cass was helping Vanora in the tavern for a busy breakfast run, they heard news of the Knights returning. Both women, with Vanora's children in tow, headed for the small courtyard where they knew the Knights would dismount.

Cass was glad when she saw all the Knights return with seemingly no injuries bar cuts and bruises. She was also glad that Tristan appeared with the rest of the Knights this time, instead of hanging behind and making her fear the worst like he had last time. A grin appeared on her face as soon as she saw him, and it wasn't going to go away anytime soon.

Bors emerged from the small courtyard to his usual greeting of a passionate kiss; there was no slap this time though. Cass wasn't paying attention to them, however; as her eyes were fixated on the man who was next to walk out of the barred metal gates.

Tristan's dark hair lay in strands in front of his face, but Cass could see the glint in his eyes and smiled at him with a sparkling grin. She couldn't help but throw herself into his arms, and she just held onto him. As he held on to her in return. She looked so small in his arms, and he looked as he normally did, though his expression was softer and his head was tilted down to her.

"Glad you're back," she said into his chest.

"Missed you," she whispered next.

Tristan released her from his embrace and she moved back slightly from him. His fingers grazed her cheek as he looked into her eyes and an almost smile played on his lips. Just as he opened his mouth to say something in return, Gawain appeared in the middle of the metal-barred gates. He looked between both couples, a sort of sideways smile appearing on his face.

"Sorry if I'm... _interrupting_ anything... But Arthur wants to talk," Gawain said to both Bors and Tristan.

Tristan nodded, but didn't take his eyes from the girl before him. His head dipped though, as his lips met her forehead. Cass closed her eyes into the touch on her forehead, and before she opened her eyes again, he was gone. She sighed. She was extremely glad that Tristan had returned; now all that she had to do was convince him that next time, he should take her with him. And _that_ could be a near impossible task.

**Author's Note: **Merry Christmas everyone! Happy Holidays if you don't celebrate it! :D

It's now officially Christmas where I am (well, it's 00.28, but STILL. :P), so I thought I'd give you guys a chapter now, and let you know I _may_ be able to give you another by this time tomorrow- though I'm not sure if I'll post it as a one-shot. I'll let you know if I do! :)

Kit xx


	32. Picture Perfect

Vanora and Cass headed to the tavern once the Knights had disappeared into the building beyond the gates. Cass' mind played on how she could convince Tristan to let her join the Knights on their missions. She had a feeling that he was _not_ going to like her idea in the slightest. But she _would_ be good enough and she _would_ go with them. Cass would prove that she was good enough. The flaw in her plan was that she wasn't good enough yet. And she knew it. It almost made her reconsider asking Tristan just yet.

After another hour, in which both women worked, if a little impatiently; the Knights and their commander made their way into the tavern. Cass smiled when she saw them; her thoughts on missions momentarily forgotten. She let Vanora go to them first, filling their glasses full of much needed ale and other such alcohol. Cass couldn't help but follow her to them soon enough though. Before she did though, she ducked under the bar and grabbed one of Tristan's apples; a fresh, green one.

Cass walked over to Tristan and handed him the apple, a small smile on her face. Both of his hands reached out, and one took the apple from her, the other took hold of her hand and pulled her closer to him, so that she was merely inches away. Their lips found each other in the first kiss they'd shared in what felt to both like an age. Cass hadn't realised quite how much she'd missed the touch of his lips on hers until she felt them there once more. Cass pulled back as a blush crossed her face and remained only to darken when Lancelot interrupted.

"Oh, would you look at that?" he said nudging Arthur beside him.

"And she says _I _need to keep my... _romancing_ to myself?"

Cass stared at him with an almost frown as she answered, "I'm not sure if you could call what you were talking about romancing, more like bragging about one night stands."

Lancelot smirked, and shook his head as he chuckled at her.

"Oh let them be, Lancelot," Vanora said from where she sat on Bors' lap.

"Ah, but is that because you want all my attention back on you Vanora? Because you know you're welcome to come home with me any day and I'll give you all the attention you'll need."

It was said as a joke, and meant that way too. And Cass had to smile at Vanora's response to the overly-flirtatious Knight, which was to roll her eyes and then turn to Bors with a kiss that would stop even Lancelot from answering back. And before he could even try, Vanora had left the table.

"See, what did I tell you? Can't keep her hands off me," Bors said with a wink to Cass.

She laughed then, short and sweet, along with the other Knights. _It's good to have them back_, she thought. It wasn't long after she'd gone back to serving the other people in the tavern when she paused, as if for once she sensed someone behind her. She put it down to the reaction of the people whose drinks she was finishing pouring that she realised.

Sure enough, when she turned, Tristan was behind her. His head tilted; an indication that he wanted to go elsewhere with Cass. She nodded and went to the bar to place down her near empty jug. Before she walked away with the quiet Knight, Cass said goodbye to Vanora, who gave her a small smile as she turned away.

Tristan and Cass wandered around the Fort together, not really going anywhere; just walking. His arm wrapped around hers as they walked, and she held onto it, a small blush warming her cheeks. Cass considered telling him, or asking him- no, telling him. She knew that giving him an option would only lead to him telling her not to go.

They found themselves walking beside the side of the Fort, on the Wall, and eventually standing, looking out into Woad territory. They said nothing for a while, and Cass realised that she hadn't heard Tristan speak since he left the Fort. She missed his voice.

Almost as if on cue, Tristan said quietly, "I told you I'd be back."

Cass smiled at the sound of his deep, accented voice and rolled her eyes as she replied, "I never doubted you."

She saw the twinkle in his eyes as she glanced sideways at him. _I can wait until tomorrow to tell him,_ she thought, leaning her head against his arm. She wouldn't be able to achieve her goal until she could ride anyway- no matter how much she disliked the idea of having to be on a horse.

She could have stayed there forever; and they did stay there, until it grew too dark for Cass' eyes and too cold for Cass' thin dress. Tristan had taken her back to her room then, but not before he untied the cloak from around his shoulders and wrapped it around Cass. The night was cold when Tristan had shut the door behind them, and it only got colder as it went on. She gave Tristan his cloak back before he left her with a kiss and a twinkle of his eyes at her door. She slept through the night, her nightmares gone as the Knights returned.

The next morning, she could feel the cold had by now even permeated the air in her room; so she clothed herself in a dress, though slipped her training trousers on underneath. She knew they would at least make her a little warmer having another layer. Once her boots were tied tightly, she drew her cloak close about her shoulders and held it there tightly.

When she walked outside and saw the blanket of white and glitter covering every visible surface, she stopped. Cass' eyes traced the lines that the fluffy snow had muffled and a grin appeared on her face. It didn't even seem to matter anymore that it was one of those days where it was cold; really cold. Her fingertips were cold, her toes were cold, and worst of all, her nose was cold. Because all that Cass could do was smile. The snow had always been Cass' favourite weather, and it had been such a rarity in the 21st Century. _Bloody_ _Global Warming_, she tutted in her head. But at the Fort and presumably over the surrounding fields; the snow had fallen thick and fast.

The hand that was placed gently upon her back made her jump a little; and she turned her head sharply, only to relax and smile at the man behind her. Their eyes met, and Tristan leaned down to her, claiming her lips in a soft kiss. They pulled apart, his lips turning upward into the small smile that he reserved for only her. She looked up at the quiet Knight; _her_ quiet Knight; the grin still painted on her face, followed by a slight red tinge darkening the pale skin of her face. Tristan's arm wrapped around her waist as the pair began walking, leaving a trail of fresh footprints in the untouched snow. Cass leaned into him, feeling his warmth on the side of face.

She had gotten into the habit of getting up early, just so she'd see him before he headed out scouting. But she didn't know that he wasn't going scouting that morning; and she didn't know that she wasn't going to the tavern that morning either. He had other plans that morning. She looked up to question him as he led her towards the Fort's gates. The corner of Tristan's lips turned upward into the only response that he would give her. Even after they had walked through the gates, he said nothing but just continued to lead her forward, the secret hidden behind his glinting eyes.

They walked through the unmarked snow, their feet sinking into its fluffy depths. The snow had by now found its way into her boots, leaving her feet wet and cold. Cass didn't mind though, the arm around her waist was keeping her as warm as she'd need. She wasn't sure where they were going, but didn't want to ruin the silence of the scene that was so perfect. So, she didn't even try to ask again.

Cass heard the cry of a hawk above them and looked upward. Sure enough, Tristan's hawk was circling above them in the swirling, white cloud above. Tristan's head also turned skyward and Cass heard him whistle, feeling him withdraw his arm from her waist. The hawk swooped down to land on the arm he held out for her. She eyed Cass with a familiar tilt of her head as Tristan fed her a piece of meat he'd picked out from his pocket.

Cass smiled at the two companions; they were perfect together. Since the last time Cass had seen the hawk, she'd warmed to it incredibly- though she wasn't sure why. She reached out tentatively to the breast of the bird, who grudgingly allowed Cass to stroke her gently. As soon as the hawk had been there, she was gone again, taking off into the white snow clouds above. Cass saw Tristan sigh as he watched her disappear. Confused, she frowned slightly, slipping her fingers between his in an almost questioning gesture.

Tristan turned from the sky to the girl next to him. He shook his head and started walking again; leading her to a destination she did not know. Tristan stopped them before a line of skeletal trees. She looked at him questioningly out of the corner of her eye. The glint in his eyes revealed that, once again, he wasn't going to give her an answer any time soon. His rough hands gently masked her eyes, and her fingers reached up to touch them.

"Tristan, what are you-?"

"Shhh," Tristan's deep voice whispered from close by her ear.

He led her onward, and made sure that she could see nothing of their route. Cass didn't know what to think as he guided her through what she presumed was the forest she'd seen before her eyes were covered. After a while of walking, ducking under things and almost tripping over slippery, protruding objects that she could not even see, Tristan stopped; leaving his hands over Cass' eyes for a moment as he stared at the landscape in front of him.

"Are we there? Where ever it is that there is anyway," Cass said; her voice quiet and tinged with a slight annoyance at being literally kept in the dark.

A small, unexpected laugh escaped his lips as his hands slipped from her face. Cass opened her eyes to the cold, snow-filled scene before her. She gasped. Tristan had led her to a break in the trees; a small bank beside a frozen stream. Sparkling, stalactite icicles hung from skeletal trees like their icy fingertips. It was picture perfect.

"Tristan, how did you find this place?" Cass asked in a whisper.

The Knight looked at her, unwilling to reveal his secret.

"Do you like it?" he said quietly.

"Like it? It's beautiful!" Cass answered, smiling.

She turned around to face him, tearing her eyes away from the beauty he had brought her to. Cass rested her hands on his chest, her fingers toying with his dark cape. Tristan tilted his head as he looked at the girl, one of his hands reaching up to entwine itself in an ebony curl. She grasped the material and, in a moment of intimate bravery, pulled him down to a kiss.

He pulled back after a long while, when Cass was almost breathless. She opened her eyes after a few breaths, but when she did, she found that Tristan was not in front of her. She looked down at the footprints in the snow. They led behind her. Cass turned, but Tristan was not behind her as she had expected. She blinked. _What the...?_

"Tristan?" she said to the empty clearing between the trees.

A hand gently grazing the skin of her arm startled her and made her jump forward, slipping in the snow and landing on her back. Cass sat up and looked at the quiet Knight who'd surprised her. Her hair dangled in wet curls as she stared at Tristan and his amused face. She exhaled as the cold and wetness started to soak through her clothes.

"Well, thank you for that," she said, her voice clearly unimpressed.

He held out a hand to help her up, but she declined and instead smiled cheekily at him and pushed a powdery clump of snow in his direction. As the flurry of whiteness hit his dark clothes, Tristan once more tilted his head at her and raised his eyebrows.

"Snowball fight?" Cass asked as she started to ball some snow in her half-frozen hands.

His brow creased and he responded with another question in his deep, neutral voice, "Snowball fight?"

"Don't tell me you've never had a snowball fight before?"

The others had; a long time ago, when they were children. _Children_, he almost scoffed at the word, they'd never had time to be children. But Tristan never had. He hadn't seen the point in them. So, after a moment, he shook his head slowly. Cass' eyes widened and she pushed herself off the ground.

"What about sledging?" she continued, surprised at the Knight's answer.

"Sledging?"

Cass almost felt her jaw drop.

"Right, well we have to go back to the Fort then."

He paused, before eventually asking, "Why?"

"_Because_, I'm going to introduce you all to a snow day. A _real _snow day."

His brow creased again, his frown deepening, as he said, "I think we've already had enough snow to know what a snow day is like. Cold... And beautiful."

Cass smiled and took his hand, "You can never have enough snow. Besides, it's fun."

She was planning to tug him all the way back to the Fort, but she realised she had no idea _how_ to get back to the Fort. Tristan shook his head, almost smiling, as she stopped at the edge of the clearing. He led her back, even though he did not share her strange fascination with a juvenile snow pastime. He pondered on it as they walked before putting it past him when they re-emerged from the line of skeletal trees. Cass smiled as they did.

She pulled him all the way back into the Fort, and to the tavern. The other Knights were there, they were eating their lunch, Cass saw. They smiled when they saw her, and said their hellos, but looked at her with sceptic glances as she was still relatively wet from her fall in the snow. Cass wasn't there just to say hello though, or to explain her dampness; her half-shyness was overtaken by her confusion at their general lack of winter fun.

"Just one question," she said, and all the Knights turned to her.

"Have _any _of you been sledging before?"

The Knights looked at her with blank or confused expressions. Some of them even turned to Tristan, who could only shrug back. Cass merely smiled through her astonishment at their reply.

"_Finally_, something _I_ can show _you_. Come on," she finished with a childish grin.

Still confused, the Knights stood anyway and, as Cass dragged Vanora along with them, followed Cass from the tavern.

"You'll need your shields," she added as they went.

"Cass, what-?" Gawain began.

"Just _trust_ me. It'll be fun. You guys don't have enough fun," Cass smiled back.

"And meet me on the training hill."

She went with Tristan, Lancelot and Dagonet to the building in which all of their rooms were. She waited outside until each of the Knights had returned, holding their shields. Cass examined the shields.

"These will be perfect."

Cass and the others walked up to the hill and met the others in the cold and snow outside. She could see that they were already getting impatient now that the snow had started to fall and Cass had them outside for some seemingly strange reason.

"Anyone brave enough to go first?" she smiled to them.

"Cass, what _are_ you trying to get us to do?" Bors asked, rather grumpily.

"Thanks for volunteering, Bors," Cass grinned.

She took his shield from him and put it on the snow covered ground. She then instructed him to sit on it, which he did, grudgingly and after a lot of coaxing.

"Now what?" he asked suspiciously.

"You- slide!" Cass said as she pushed him down the long slope.

The others watched Bors as he sped down the hill, roaring with laughter- a sound mimicked by Cass. Neither stopped laughing until Bors ended up rolling to the side. He stood, covered from head to toe in powdery snow, and, in the most Bors-like way possible, he started booming with laughter again.

It wasn't long until Cass had got Vanora and the other Knights to join in. Cass had no idea how she'd done it, but even Tristan, she managed to convince to go down the hill once. And though he'd never admit it, the speed and wind in his face was as he'd felt to freedom in a long time.

There was one point in which Cass was left standing alone atop the hill with a smile on her face. And it wasn't just because of the enjoyment she was personally taking from their make-shift sledging trip. It was because she'd finally passed her smile onto the others, and given them something back.

**Author's Note:** Well, this was the snow/perhaps one-shot chapter... I'm still not sure what I think of it... :/ Arghhh, I don't know guys... :/ I may take it down and edit... :/

Kit xx


	33. Seizing the Opportunity

The snow stayed for days, and although the Knights had taken their enjoyment from the day Cass had shown them how to sledge, by the fourth day, they had had enough. Only Cass still smiled at the wintery chill in the air. That is, until she was walking to the tavern alone, and she slipped on a concealed strip of ice. That was when her bruised knees and grazed palms pretty much put her in the mood for slightly sunnier weather.

And so it was, by chance, that the temperature warmed slightly, and instead of snow, came rain. It washed away the snow, but lay eventually covering the ground in a thin layer of ice. The next morning, when Cass saw this, she sighed. She could predict that she was going to lose her balance almost as soon as she stepped out of the door.

She had missed Tristan that morning; he was already gone before she had even dressed. And though the Knights had relaxed their order that Cass should stay with one of them at all times, Dagonet still knocked on her door to walk her to the tavern for breakfast. She'd smiled at him, but now she was almost wishing that he wasn't standing behind her. She wasn't much looking forward to falling over- and an audience was even less what she wanted. Even so, slowly, Cass took a step out into the semi-frozen slipway that was her path to the tavern.

She was watching her feet so intently to stop herself from falling, that she was disturbed when Dagonet chuckled, "You know; if you keep watching your feet you're going to make yourself fall over."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Feet watched in wet snow is a wet arse in waiting."

Dagonet stared at her, amused at her strange saying. After realising what she'd said, Cass blushed and tried to explain.

"It was something my dad used to say," she said.

He nodded, asking for no further explanation. Dagonet saw how her expression had changed when she said the word "dad". Cass stayed looking at her feet for the entire way to the tavern despite Dagonet's advice. She only fell three times before she allowed Dagonet to take hold of her arm to steady her. As they walked into the tavern, Cass smiled and let go of his arm.

"Thank you, Dagonet. As much as I like snow, I'm not great on ice."

"I've noticed," he replied with a sideways smile.

She giggled and sighed back. They joined those who were already seated, which was just Galahad and Gawain. Cass reasoned that, like every cold morning she'd had at the Fort, the freezing air probably had something to do with the others' absence.

"Morning," she said, as she took her usual seat next to Dagonet.

"You're _still_ sitting there?"

Cass looked up at Galahad, clearly confused.

"I know what you mean, I thought she'd have moved too," Gawain said, smiling to the man beside him.

Cass's brow furrowed and she replied, "What _are_ you two talking about?"

"Oh, just that we assumed you'd have moved by now."

"Moved where?"

"Next to Tristan."

Cass was still confused, so Galahad elaborated, "We mean your chair. So you'd be next to him instead of at the other end of the table."

Cass blinked and thought for a moment.

"I don't know. It's not really my place, you know?"

"No," both men said in unison.

Cass rolled her eyes at them, and stayed firmly where she was. It wasn't that she didn't want to sit next to Tristan; in fact, she'd love to. But she knew that she'd arrived at the Fort and joined the Knights a long time after they'd been forced there. They all had their places, even around the little corner table, and Cass had been given hers. She wasn't about to change it, no matter how much she might want to. It just wasn't her place to go interfering.

Tristan's arrival saved Cass from having to explain though; and the sight of him brought a smile to Cass' face. He responded with a flash of the glint in his dark eyes and a touch on her shoulder as he brushed past. Tristan took his seat in his corner and Gawain and Galahad smiled to each other. They ate then, thinking that perhaps it was too late to wait for the others. Of course, as soon as they began, the others entered the tavern; Lancelot feigning that he was offended that they hadn't waited for him.

After a while, everyone seemed to disperse from the table, leaving Cass and Tristan alone. Cass fiddled with one of her black curling ringlets and leaned forward slightly onto the table. Tristan tilted his head at her at waited for her to speak. She _did_ speak eventually, knowing his ability to wear her down with his silence.

"So... Tristan," Cass began, seizing her opportunity to make some headway on her task.

He just looked at her until she continued.

"Would it be okay if..." she paused, not wanting to seem too eager.

"I mean; maybe we could try riding again?" Cass finished slowly.

Tristan's expression changed from passive to some half-concealed emotion that Cass couldn't identify. He nodded anyway though, earning a small smile from the girl across the table. They went straight to the stables, much to Tristan's confusion. Cass slipped once on route, only to be caught before she hit the ground. Tristan had no idea why she had had a seeming sudden change of heart in learning to ride, and it seemed odd that she'd want to ride in such weather. He was certainly suspicious of her.

When they entered the stables, Cass noticed that the frost had not made it inside- and she was grateful for it. Tristan saddled his horse while Cass watched nervously from beside. She was trying desperately to hide how nervous she actually was, but she knew that Tristan could probably see straight though the front she was putting on. _Suck it up, Cass. You _need _to learn how to ride if you want to go anywhere with the Knights_, she thought, almost angrily, to herself.

He brought the dappled-grey horse out of her stall and toward Cass. The horse just looked at Cass for a moment; and Cass just stared back. She took a breath and steeled herself to approach the horse. She reached her hand out to the horse before trying anything else, letting it smell her. Cass didn't know why she was doing it, but it seemed, for some reason, to be the right thing to do.

Tristan helped her into the saddle, and Cass swallowed, taking hold of the reins slowly. _It's not so bad. See? You're fine_, she thought, trying to reassure herself. When the horse started walking however, Cass couldn't help but wrap her hands and entwine them in the reigns and Tristan had to stop them. Cass looked at him quizzically.

"Never wrap your hands in the reins," he said in a low voice.

Cass frowned. Her safety blanket had been that she _could_ do that.

"Why not?" she asked; still confused.

After a while, the quiet Knight's eyes glinted and he replied, "With your luck, you'd fall off and get dragged along behind."

It could have been meant as a joke. Cass didn't take it that way though, because he was probably right. It _would _be her luck that that would happen. She nodded to the Knight and unwound her hands; only then would Tristan allow the horse to resume walking again. Tristan showed Cass the best way to sit, keeping her toes pointed forward; her feet level with his horse's shoulders. He told her to keep a firm grip on the horse with her knees, and Cass tried her best to follow his instructions.

Cass determination to learn was clearly contributing to how apt she seemed to have suddenly become, but when Tristan spoke next, Cass' determination quivered all but to a halt.

Tristan almost smiled at the petite girl on his horse as he said, "Ready to try going faster?"

Cass blinked. She didn't know if she _was _ready to try going any faster. She didn't even think that she'd mastered the sophisticated art of just sitting there whilst the horse did the walking quite yet. But Cass knew that she had to make some progress in learning to ride, and she nodded once to the Knight by her side.

Before he let her and his horse go again, Tristan explained what Cass would need to do. He told her how she should rise and fall in the saddle, settling into the rhythm of the horse's strides. Cass gulped, and nodded again. _Do it. It can't be that hard. You'll get it soon enough. You _have _to_, Cass told herself.

Tristan nodded back, finally spurring his horse into a trot. Cass wasn't really expecting the horse to go straight into a trot, and almost all of everything Tristan had said to her fled from her mind. She felt like she was being bounced around like a sack of potatoes. _Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. Come on, do what Tristan said. Bend your knees. Push up in the stirrups. Rise and fall. Rise and fall._

She felt like she was doing awfully, but as he watched from the sidelines, Tristan could see that she was on the right track. Or she would be soon enough; if she kept trying. And Tristan didn't know exactly how determined Cass was to keep trying. She stayed on the horse, for hours in fact, until her backside and legs ached too much for her to ignore. When she mentioned it to Tristan, he stopped the horse and pulled her off into his arms.

Cass would admit any day that she preferred being on the ground instead of on top of the horse that she still thought might hate her. Even more than that though; she was enjoying being in Tristan's arms. His hands stayed on her waist from where he lifted her down. Their eyes met, and Cass had to look away; a deep blush on her features. His lips turned upward at the corners, as he looked through strands of his dark hair at the girl in his arms.

He pulled her slightly closer; she looked up at him. He seized the opportunity and pressed his lips to hers. Tristan heard her make a small noise; saw her eyes close as she leaned into his kiss. His closed then too. Their kiss deepened, one of his hands travelled the length of her spine until his fingers lightly caressed the back of her neck, beneath her curling hair. Cass shivered, her mouth opening in a gasp, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Her eyes snapped open and they met Tristan's instantly. Her reaction made him pull back.

Cass blinked. She hadn't meant for him to pull back, she was just surprised. No one had _ever_ kissed her like that before. Even though she'd only ever been kissed twice before she had met Tristan- and she was sure that that those kisses didn't count; they hadn't meant anything after all- this was different. _Tristan_ was different. And she was afraid that her instinctual, unstoppable reaction had just made him think that she wanted him to stop.

His face was blank of all emotion, and Cass had to think quickly. Her hands reached up to his shoulders, and she pulled him down to her lips again. She knew that she just had to _show_ Tristan that she didn't want him to stop. And show him, she did. He was the one to pull back after that kiss, his eyes glinting as he moved away from her smiling lips. Cass sighed that their kiss had ended, her eyes locking with his.

They stayed like that for a while, before Tristan decided that they should go back to the tavern. As they stepped outside, one of Tristan's arms still wrapped around her waist, Cass saw that the sky was already darkening. She leaned into the warmth of the man next to her, not even noticing how the ice on the floor had almost all melted away.

Cass stopped when she saw Arthur and the Knights at the corner table. Tristan did too. She would have sat in her normal seat, as usual; but she couldn't. Because her seat was taken. In fact, the only seats that remained free were Tristan's and the chair beside it, that used to belong to Lancelot. Six faces turned back to them with smirks evidently present. Cass blushed as she realised that the choice that Galahad and Gawain had presented her with, was now out of her hands. The Knights had seized their opportunity.

**Author's Note: **So, as of general consensus, the previous chapter stays and this one follows on. :)

Just a special thanks now to AngelStorm for all her help on horse-related things here, and in future chapters; bits of her words are littered throughout this chapter. This chapter would have been much different, and pretty awful actually, if it weren't for her. :)

Kit xx


	34. A Moment Too Late

Cass got up just that moment too late to catch Tristan that morning, and she sighed as she stepped outside to the lightening sky. Cass thought about what to do; she knew that it was probably too early to go to the tavern, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep if she tried now. The only thing that she could think to do was to go out and practice; and if it took her one step closer to her going on missions with the Knights, she was happy to do that at any time of day.

She already had her swords strapped to her waist; Cass still didn't like going anywhere without them. But she went back inside anyway to pick up her bow and some arrows, supposing that she might try shooting in the half-darkness. Cass made her way to the gates, slowly traversing through the Fort with a sense of odd caution. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something strange about her journey; it was almost as if she could feel that someone was watching her. She dismissed it though, putting the feeling down to her being alone in the semi-darkness.

At the gates, the Roman soldiers there looked at her for a moment before letting her pass. She recognised two of them as two that were there the day the Romans tried to take her away, and their sneering expressions showed her that they remembered her too. Cass' hand tightened around the bow in her hand as she finally walked through the gates.

She tried to shake her mind from the Romans by launching herself into her training, beginning first with the bow and arrow. In the dark, she found it harder to hit the target, but she still managed it. Inwardly, she was extremely pleased that she had made so much progress- and still hadn't gleaned any bruises from a twanging bowstring.

Afterward, she dropped her bow and the arrows she'd pulled from her target, beside _Tristan's Tree_, and pulled her swords from their sheaths. Cass began her practise by sweeping through motions that her old fencing teacher had taught her before swiftly transitioning into the moves the Knights had shown her. She almost wished she had someone to spar against; training just wasn't the same without anyone else. _I'll have to wait until the Knights go out to train_, she thought, for the first time feeling infinitely more confident in her ability.

The sun rose higher into the morning sky in reds and pinks. Cass frowned as she sat down beside her bow with her back to _Tristan's_ _Tree_. She had to admit that the sky was beautiful, but something her mother used to say tugged at her mind. _'Red sky at night, shepherds delight. Red sky in the morning, shepherds warning.' Does that mean it's going to rain?_ Cass had never really understood the saying, but it still stuck in her mind. She smiled as she remembered what she had said when trying to repeat her mother's rhyme as a little girl. _Red sky in the morning, shepherds warning. Red sky at night, shepherd's pie. _Cass smiled; she liked shepherd's pie. Just thinking about it put her in a better mood.

Cass watched as white, fluffy-looking clouds rolled in and started humming to a song that had been stuck in her head for a long time. It was a song that Cass adored. As she hummed along quietly, Cass sang the words silently in her mind as only the tune spilled from her lips. She kept humming as she started to hear noises from the Fort; normal, morning noises, but they told Cass that everyone was waking up and that she could probably go to the tavern now.

"Your voice is beautiful," a quiet voice said to her right.

Cass head whipped around to the familiar voice, her eyes finding the familiar face. Tristan. As a blush bloomed on her cheeks and her eyes found the floor as soon as his glinting, dark eyes looked up at her. To say the least, Cass was embarrassed. She had been glad when she thought no one was around to hear her humming; she only ever hummed or sang when she was _sure_ that no one was around. Cass' mother had always told her she could sing, but Cass disagreed, saying that her mother was just biased. She never wanted anyone to hear her sing. But she could not have known that the silent scout was about when he was so good at concealing himself.

Cass heard Tristan move closer to her so she closed her eyes and answered quietly, "Tristan, I didn't realise that you were... I didn't think anyone was... I don't usually..."

She couldn't think what to say and finished lamely with a whispered, "Thank you."

Cass just sat there for a while, still too embarrassed to look up at Tristan. She couldn't believe he'd heard her humming; she was even more secretive of her singing than she was of her art. Even though she was looking at her feet, she saw his hand move into her line of sight. Cass sighed, taking Tristan's upturned palm but still refusing to look at him; instead she focussed her gaze on her bow and arrows, picking them up as she stood.

With one hand encompassing hers, Tristan's other hand found a place on her cheek, his thumb gently toying with the corner of her lips. That was when her eyes flickered back up to him, her blush still dying her skin a deep red. Cass sighed and leaned into his hand, trying to just forget that he had heard her. Though it seemed that Tristan had other ideas.

"You should sing more."

Cass blinked, a renewed blush on her cheeks as she answered, "Oh no... I'm _no_ Vanora. I don't sing in front of people... I _don't_ sing. I _can't_..."

He placed a small kiss to her lips, simply to stop her continuing her self-deprecating speech. Cass only confusedly frowned back, which elicited a half-smile from him. That was enough to soften her expression. He squeezed her hand and pulled her back toward the Fort. Her grumbling stomach would have forced her to comply whether she'd wanted to or not.

"What was that song?" Tristan asked as they walked down the hill.

Cass' head turned to him, tilting as she considered a way to explain how she'd heard the song. She couldn't very well just say that she'd Youtubed it.

Eventually she replied quietly, "It was called _Dark_ _Waltz_. I heard someone singing it years ago; it's one of my favourites."

He nodded, accepting her answer, but not at all revealing how he'd have liked to have heard Cass actually _singing_, not just humming, the song. The two stopped at Cass' room, where she deposited her bow and arrows, but not her swords. When Cass left her room, Tristan wondered why she still had her swords strapped to her waist, but again, he said nothing.

In the tavern, Cass was surprised to find no one else around, not even Vanora. There was barely anyone inside the tavern at all and when she articulated this to Tristan, he merely shrugged. Cass took her seat beside Tristan at the corner table. It would take her a while to get used to her new place at the table, but as she rested a hand on the table and Tristan reached out to cover it, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her skin; she knew that she'd get used to it.

After half an hour, the other Knights started to come into the tavern. _It must have been earlier than I thought_, Cass thought, smiling to each of them as they took their seats. Lancelot's eyes lingered on Cass and Tristan's hands, a smirk on his face as he sat down next to Cass. Cass blushed but didn't move her hand away; a bit of embarrassment wasn't enough to make her want to move away from the tingling sensation the movement of Tristan's thumb was causing.

Bors and Vanora were the last of the group to appear in the tavern, and as Vanora entered, Cass noticed just how busy the tavern was getting. She joined the older woman at the bar, reluctantly leaving Tristan behind. Vanora smiled at Cass, and Cass returned it before the pair began working.

Throughout the morning, whilst she worked, Cass found that she couldn't keep her mind, and gaze, from drifting back to Tristan. The thing that made her smile slightly though, was that every time she looked at him, his eyes were on her. After a long while, she saw the Knights nod to each other and leave the tavern. Only Galahad remained to tap Cass on the shoulder, gaining her attention. She smiled and waited for him to speak.

"We're going out to train. Do you want to come?" he smiled to her.

Cass nodded back with a grin. _Perfect_, she thought, happy that she would be able to show the Knights how much better she had become in their recent absence. She and Galahad said goodbye to Vanora and started towards the gates, when Cass wondered about getting her bow.

Almost as if reading her mind, Galahad said, "Tristan went to get your bow, by the way. That's _also_ the reason I get to escort you."

Cass nodded and smiled at the youngest of the Knights. They kept up a conversation that Cass found amiable enough, even when Galahad started talking about her and Tristan's relationship.

"I still don't know how you did it."

Cass frowned and asked, "Did what?"

"Got Tristan to fall for you."

"Fall for me? He didn't fall for me, he just..." Cass started, her cheeks tinged red.

"Well he certainly loves you. And believe me; that came as a surprise to the rest of us."

He paused before he realised how Cass might take what he'd just said, and finished, "That Tristan would love someone, I mean."

Cass stared at him as they walked, her features creased into a would-be frown. _Why does everyone keep telling me that a relationship with Tristan was so unexpected or unlikely?_ she thought, almost annoyed at the repetition. She didn't understand; but then again, Tristan had never allowed anybody else to get as close to him as Cass was, and the Knights knew _that _only too well.

When the others met Cass and Galahad atop the training hill, Tristan was among the first. He handed Cass her bow, the glint present as it sparkled in his deep brown eyes.

Cass took it gratefully with a smile and a quiet, "Thank you."

Once everyone was present, Cass noticed the Knights started to pair off, and she realised at the last moment that that meant that she would be paired with Tristan. She sighed through a mixture of excitement that she could show him how she'd improved and a sense of dread that she was more than likely about to end up on her backside once again.

"Go easy on me?" Cass said, as she put the bows Tristan had just given her on the ground.

He shook his head and half-smiled at her.

"Somehow I thought that'd be your answer," she sighed again, unsheathing the twin swords at her waist.

Tristan pulled free his sword with a manner of grace that Cass had only ever seen him manage so successfully. She took a deep breath and waited for him to make the first move. And their dance began all too quickly. His eyes flashed as his sword did, the metal of the three blades clashing as Cass blocked his blow. They continued a while, Cass catching every move that Tristan threw at her.

Inwardly, she was ecstatic. Outwardly, she was so focussed on fighting the quiet Knight that she didn't even notice the others stop to observe them. They were quite amazed at how long she was lasting in a fight with the scout; which was longer than any enemy ever had. Even Tristan had noticed how Cass had improved since their last fight, so much so that he pushed her harder, testing her further.

Cass was breathing heavily at the intensity of her fight with Tristan, but she wouldn't give up. She had to prove that she could handle it. _Besides, _she thought, _give up in a real fight and you die._ Tristan moved faster and faster as their fight continued, and Cass started to stumble. It was purely unlucky that her swords moved in the wrong direction, and Tristan stopped his blade that moment too late. A small line of blood cut across her arm, the fabric of her sleeve tearing; and before Cass even noticed, Tristan's blade was sheathed and he was at her side. The look in his eyes was one of thunder being masked. But his rage was purely for himself.

She laid a hand on his arm as he examined the cut and said, "Tristan, relax. It's only a cut, it doesn't hurt."

His expression was one of disbelief.

"Honestly, I've fallen over and had worse. It's the tiniest little knick. You stopped the sword before it got any further. I'm fine."

Dagonet came over to them, after watching them and seeing her argue against what Tristan seemed to think was serious. Tristan let him look at Cass' arm, though his eyes were still filled with his anger at himself for hurting her.

"It's fine; you don't even need a stitch," Dagonet said, leaving Cass alone with the silent, pained Knight.

Cass took hold of Tristan's hands, though he refused to meet her eyes. He was ashamed he hadn't stopped the blade; he knew he should have done, but he was a moment too late. And he knew that that moment could have done some serious damage. Tristan was cursing himself silently as Cass' hands moved to cup the sides of his face, her fingers lightly touching the dark tattoos there.

"You didn't hurt me," she whispered as she tried to find his gaze.

"I could have," he answered in a low voice filled with the anger he felt for his mistake.

Cass shook her head.

"No. You couldn't have. Forget it. It was an accident. Accidents happen to everyone. You know; I wouldn't even have noticed if you hadn't made such a fuss," she added, smiling wryly at him.

"Forget it."

He looked up at her then, not at all understanding how she could take this so lightly. The look on her face helped though. It made him want to forget what had just happened; even though he knew he couldn't. Tristan made a vow to himself that he would never again hurt Cass. _Never_. He nodded to the girl, letting her think that he would let what happened go; letting her pull him into a kiss that was meant to show him that what happened meant nothing to her. Because his had mistake meant nothing to her. But it had meant everything to him.


	35. Not A Murderer

The rest of that day passed quickly for everyone but Cass and Tristan. She couldn't take her eyes from him, even when she was working in the tavern, though for a different reason than she had looked at him that morning. He sat so silently at the corner table, his face so completely masked that Cass could tell he was punishing himself for the tiny cut he'd given her. Tristan hadn't hurt her. What she'd told him was true; she'd fallen over and had far worse. But he couldn't seem to let go of the fact that he _could _have hurt her.

It started to rain as Cass had predicted it would, but that only increased Cass' workload, meaning that she had no time to go to Tristan, or to even ask Vanora for advice. Even when she walked back to her room with Tristan, Dagonet and Lancelot, Cass could not talk alone with Tristan. But she could certainly sense the distance he was putting up between them.

As Dagonet and Lancelot entered the building in which all their rooms lay, and Tristan waited for Cass to go in first, Cass took the first opportunity she'd been given to talk to the Knight since he'd accidentally cut her. She pushed the door to the corridor closed and stood between it and Tristan, rain dripping down their faces. He simply looked at her, his expression as masked as it ever could have been. Cass took his hands and sighed; to her, it seemed he was being very unresponsive, and that worried her.

"Tristan, please, stop. It wasn't your fault. I'm _not _hurt."

There was a long pause between them, one that Cass was determined his voice should fill.

"I could have hurt you," he said in the same low voice as before.

"Tristan, no. Stop being so stubborn. Besides what's life without getting hurt once in a while- and I mean, you didn't even hurt me! Honestly, that cut hurts less than a paper cut."

He said nothing again for what felt like an age to Cass. The thoughts going through Tristan's mind were ones that she wished she could know, just so that she could tell him how wrong he was. Tristan took a long, deep breath before speaking.

"I can't see you in pain," he said in a voice so quiet that Cass almost missed his words.

"I'm not _in _pain. Tristan, the only thing that's hurting me is seeing _you _in pain, especially over something so little."

He frowned, turning his head from Cass. All Tristan could think about was how even just as he'd promised himself he'd never hurt her, he was hurting her again.

"Please Tristan, just let it go."

The pleading look in her eyes drew him back to her. Cass wasn't going to give up, and she knew that it didn't seem likely that he would either. Tristan took a breath. As bad as he felt- as angry as he was with himself- Cass' eyes brought his memory back to the night she'd tried to end things. And that brought him to his senses, or to senses that told him, as Cass did, to relax. _Let it pass. _Tristan bowed his head to the girl before him.

"I'm sorry," Tristan said, the words rolling off his tongue as if he had barely used them before.

Cass stared at him, not knowing if his apology was because he couldn't let it go, or that he was apologising for how he had acted. It proved to be the latter as he bent his neck, enveloping her lips in a kiss. Cass pulled away after a while, letting him take her inside and away from the falling rain that had drenched them both. Tristan left her at her door, his expression softer than it had been since their training.

The next morning, Cass woke early once more. She guessed that she was just so used to doing it now that she'd never lie in again as she pulled on her black dress. She tried to calm the mess that her hair always was in the morning by brushing it back and attempting to smooth the frizz. It didn't really work as well as she'd wanted it to, but she headed outside anyway after she'd strapped her swords about her waist.

Cass smiled at her luck as just as she stepped out of her room and found Tristan doing the same. He waited for her to make her way over to him and took her hand in his. She saw his eyes glint in the half light of the corridor. Neither said anything as they walked outside; until Tristan stopped her where they usually separated. Cass looked at him questioningly.

"Come with me," he said.

"What... Where?" Cass asked with a half confused smile.

He tilted his head to side as he answered, "Scouting."

Cass couldn't think what to say, so she didn't say anything. _Scouting. With Tristan? Why would he... After yesterday? It makes no sense. _Then it hit her. The reason Tristan was asking her to go out scouting with him _had_ to be to show her that he was trying to get passed what had happened. The fact that he was taking her to somewhere that she could be hurt when he was so determined that she wouldn't be only confused her, but she wasn't about to say no.

Cass nodded, letting him lead her to the stables. She swallowed as she watched Tristan saddling his horse, before she realised that he was _only_ saddling his horse. He mounted and guided his horse toward Cass, holding out a hand for her. Cass smiled, pushing back any fear that she was still holding onto, and took his hand. He pulled her up so that she was sat behind him. Her arms circled Tristan's waist, and as the horse started to move again, her grip tightened slightly. _Not the way to get him to believe you're getting better_, she thought to herself. It wouldn't occur to her until later how much that she'd enjoyed just being able to hold Tristan in her arms for so long a time.

As they rode through the Fort to the Gates, Cass couldn't help but feel as she had the previous morning, as if someone was watching her. She put it passed her once again, putting it down to the emptiness that the lack of people and the semi-darkness gave the Fort. Cass rested her head against Tristan and looked off to her left as they emerged from the Fort. It seemed eerie.

Tristan took Cass on a shorter version of the places he usually scouted around. He wanted to show her that he'd let go what had happened, but he didn't want to put her directly in any danger. For her part, not knowing that they were taking a slightly safer route than his normal trails were, Cass was amazed. She was totally wrapped up in trying to notice the things that Tristan could see, and that she, no matter how observant she was, could not.

She wanted to ask him how it was that he knew what he was looking at, but refrained. The whole point of scouting was to be silent so, in case anything was amiss, any enemy would not hear them. Instead, she tried to wait until Tristan stopped; though, when he did, Cass said nothing. They were near enough beside a line of trees, nowhere that Cass had seen before. But she could tell from the way Tristan paused, and the way he scanned first the ground and then the tree line that something was wrong. Tristan dismounted; standing beside Cass and his horse. Cass wasn't sure what to look at, again unable to see what it was that he was seeing.

"Stay where you are," Cass heard him whisper, unsure if he was talking to her or the horse.

She stayed where she was anyway, watching as Tristan picked up his bow and strung it. Cass stared; if something bad was going to happen, if they were going to be attacked or something, she wanted to help. But she could already predict that he wouldn't let her. Not after the day before. Cass bit her bottom lip as she started to hear something moving amongst the trees, and it sounded to her like running people. Tristan released two arrows at once into the tangle of trees before they appeared.

Woads. Blue demons, she'd heard them called. It wasn't at all hard for her to imagine why they were called as such as they launched themselves out from the trees, screaming, ferocious and covered in some sort of wraithlike blue paint. Tristan was quick though. He released another set of arrows into the bodies of oncoming Woads. Cass wanted to help; but she knew that right now, if she went against what Tristan had told her to do, she would only distract him.

Her choice was made for her though as an arrow narrowly missed her head, and before she could even gasp a sharp intake of breath, Tristan pulled her from his horse. Cass didn't even know where the archer was, but Tristan loosed another arrow and no more came for Cass. As the Woads neared, Cass saw him shoulder his bow and unsheathe his sword. She saw the masked but distinctly unhappy look in his expression as he turned to her, the moment before they were on them.

"You'll have to fight with me" he almost growled, hating the words as he said them.

He hated what he had to ask of the girl, but if she didn't fight, then he would have to stop what he judged to be ten Woads from killing both her and himself. If she was defending herself she would make it far easier for him to kill their attackers more quickly- no matter how much he hated that plan. Cass nodded, taking a deep breath as she unsheathed her swords and stood beside Tristan. All she could think was that getting Tristan to let her fight had been a _lot_ easier than she'd anticipated._ I guess emergencies _are_ useful_, she thought. What she didn't realise was that, for her to fight, an opponent had to get passed Tristan- and he'd be damned if he'd let that happen.

Their first attacker, a wild-looking red-headed man, was dead with one swift flick of Tristan's sword. The headless body of the next joined him in the blood-splattered grass. Cass' grip tightened around her swords, knowing that momentarily, she would have to make use of all the training she'd received. It wasn't long before the remaining eight Woads were before them, and attacking with all their might. Tristan could not stop the few that made it passed him. He could only hope that, as he fought those that turned to him, Cass would be able to take care of herself until he could help her.

Cass backed up slightly, her swords raised as the three Woads advanced on her. She lost track of Tristan then, realising that she had to pay attention to those in front of her. _Focus,_ she told herself as she moved to block a blow that could have been deadly. As the sword not blocking the axe headed for her head moved under the man's chest, Cass felt for the first time her blade slice through flesh. She had no time to dwell on the feeling as a woman with a scraggly blonde mess of hair launched herself at Cass, snarling madly. She ducked the Woad's first blow, their swords clashing multiple times before Cass kicked the woman back. Cass turned and brought her swords down on the woman. The woman fell to the ground, cross-shaped slashes deep in her dying body.

Her final opponent, a man with dark hair, tattoos running across his arms, moved sporadically; his attacks were disjointed and confusing. That was why Cass didn't expect the force at which his body hit hers, as they both toppled to the ground, swords locked. As she struggled to get him off her, Cass brought her knee up with some force, and in the moment it took for the pain to register in the man's face, Cass had rolled out from under him. As she stood, bringing her swords back around, readying herself for his next attack, the Woad scrambled to his feet.

He didn't attack though. He didn't get the chance. Cass saw the sword jutting from between the man's ribs, and she watched as blood bubbled, dribbling from his open, surprised mouth. Tristan let the body drop to the ground and moved over to Cass. She hadn't noticed that he'd stopped fighting, but now she saw that the ground was littered with dead bodies, dyeing the earth blood red. _I just killed two of them_, she thought blankly, not really taking in what she'd done.

Tristan placed his hand on her shoulder, pulling her from her thoughts. His eyes were asking her if she was alright. Cass nodded, not trusting her voice. It wasn't that she wasn't alright; the thing that stopped her talking was that she _was_ alright. Fighting those Woads was different to how she'd expected it to be. She just needed a moment to take in what had happened; and Tristan gave her that. He took her swords from her and wiped them clean as he did with his own; then he moved to check the area around them. Cass didn't know what for, and she didn't ask.

She found herself wondering if how she felt now was how Tristan and the others felt after they'd first killed. _You're a killer,_ Cass thought to herself, what she'd done finally hitting her. _Not a murderer. But a killer._ She almost felt a little sick, but she held the feeling back. She'd show Tristan that she was strong enough to handle this; her plan to join the Knights on their missions suddenly feeling slightly more realistic.

"Tristan... Why were they...?" Cass began.

Tristan shrugged, turning back to her. He handed her back her swords, which she sheathed, and then led her back to his horse. They rode back to the Fort quickly, leaving the blue-painted bodies where they had fallen. Tristan said nothing as they rode, but inwardly, he was impressed. Cass had handled that situation much better than he'd thought she would. She was unhurt. That was what mattered to him the most. And though she'd killed for what he knew to be the first time, Cass had reacted better than most others he'd known. As they arrived at the Fort, Tristan left his horse with Jols and led Cass into the building beyond the gated courtyard.

"Tristan, where are we going?" Cass asked quietly.

"We need to see Arthur," Tristan replied, his deep voice holding a similar volume to hers.

He could have gone alone to tell Arthur of the unexpected attack, but Tristan was still quite unsure of how Cass was reacting to having killed those Woads. Her reaction so far had been so unusual; he was beginning now to question whether she was holding something back. He didn't want to leave her in case anything changed in her reaction for the worse. The pair stopped outside of Arthur's room and Tristan knocked. He didn't really expect Arthur to be there, but it was always the best place to start when searching for him. It was almost surprising when the commander pulled the door open and stood to face them.

Arthur was about to say something, but his expression turned to a frown, and instead he asked, "What happened?"

Cass frowned. _How does he know something's happened?_ she thought, but as she looked down she noticed that her skin was splattered with flecks of dried blood. She hadn't noticed that. And she hadn't noticed that Tristan was much the same.

"Woad ambush," Tristan replied.

Arthur's frown deepened and he asked, "How many?"

"Around fifteen," Tristan answered, tilting his head as if the number was nothing.

Arthur sighed, one hand reaching up to massage his forehead.

"Any ideas on what they were doing?"

Tristan shook his head. Both men knew that it seemed odd that the Woads would attack like that. There had to be a reason for it, and as there were no carriages, or villages nearer than the well protected Fort, neither man could see the sense behind it.

"Perhaps they're just getting a bit adventurous," Cass volunteered.

She almost wished she hadn't said anything as the pair turned to her. They both knew she could be right, but neither liked the sound of that idea.

"Perhaps," Arthur replied quietly.

"Thank you for telling me. I'm sorry; Cass would you give us a moment?"

Cass blinked, and then said, "Yes, er, sure. I should go and get cleaned up anyway."

She smiled at the two men and turned, leaving them behind. After she had washed and changed, Cass found that Tristan was waiting for her. She smiled as she saw him, meeting him with a kiss. She didn't ask him what he and Arthur had discussed as they headed for the tavern, she thought that if it had been any of her business then Arthur wouldn't have asked her to leave. Cass had no idea that part of the two men's private conversation had in fact been _about _her.

Tristan had told Arthur about Cass' fighting the Woads, and Arthur had wondered how she'd handled herself. The quiet Knight explained her reaction and Arthur nodded, suggesting that Tristan keep a particular eye on her for the rest of the night. To him, her reaction just didn't seem normal for a girl who blushed when people stared at her or talked to her. _Perhaps she's just stronger than I thought_, Arthur considered as he watched the scout leave.

By the time that they arrived in the tavern, Arthur and the others were already at the corner table. It was lucky too, that the tavern was not busy, as the Knights, who'd heard what had happened, were determined that she should stay with them and have a drink. She declined their offer, however they did not let her leave the table until she'd drunk at least one glass of ale. Cass couldn't understand why they seemed to want her to drink something so badly. In the end she agreed simply to placate them. For their part, the Knights knew that they always felt better drunk after seeing battle.

Cass managed to convince the others that she was fine, and just tired. So Tristan took her back to her room, but she could tell that he was watching her carefully. _More_ carefully than usual. She sighed as they stood outside of her door. Tristan kissed her in a way that Cass knew was meant to be reassuring and when she pulled back, she smiled at him.

Cass went into her room and, as soon as her door was closed, lay down on her bed. She stared at the ceiling, mulling over the events of the day. She was almost annoyed at how the Knights had reacted. They'd only done it because they cared about her, she knew; but what had irritated her was that she _was_ fine and they didn't seem to believe her. Cass knew also, that it seemed odd to them how she'd reacted. She put it down to the fact that she had already been set in knowing that she'd have to kill if she wanted to save the Knights. She had almost been prepared for the moment she'd have to kill.

Cass hoped that today had gotten her closer to that goal. She hadn't dared to ask Tristan yet though; she knew that she couldn't ride well enough to convince him to let her join them. As she drifted into a deep sleep, no matter how much she'd thought it hadn't affected her, the only faces she saw in her dreams that night were those of the two Woads she'd killed.

**Author's Note: Well firstly, Happy New Year! (Yeah, I know I'm days off, sorryyyyy. :P)**

**This chapter just took on a will of its own. It started the way I planned the chapter, but something took over and this came out; so I hope you like it anyway. :)**

**Lastly, I'd like to apologise because I need to stop writing for a little while. Until February actually. I have two A levels this month, so apologies, but if I want my life to go anywhere (which I do :P) then I need to knuckle down and pass them. Unfortunately that means that "An Artist's Touch" will be on hiatus until then, simply because it distracts me too much from actually doing my work. But hopefully, since my last exam in the 31****st****, I should be able to write a chapter for the 1****st**** or 2****nd**** of February, so until then, all you lovely people who are reading, and especially those of you reviewing, I hope you're well and thank you. :)**

**Kit xx**


	36. The Past And The Future

Cass woke up, her eyes finding the ceiling above her. She lay there for a long time before she realised how much her head hurt. Cass put a hand to her forehead and felt that a headache had grown overnight. _Probably from the lack of sleep_, she thought with a sigh. Cass hadn't slept well, as she had thought she might, and she knew that she'd only had at most two hours of sleep. The deep sleep that she had fallen into initially was broken with the faces of the Woads that she'd killed. They were playing on her mind continually throughout the night and she couldn't help but wonder what the man and woman she'd killed had been like. If they had families. Cass realised now that she should have taken the drinks that the Knights had offered; it would have helped her sleep better, and perhaps forget what she thought she wouldn't need to.

Cass felt awful that morning; her headache refusing to leave no matter how still she lay. Cass grimaced, deciding that she'd do what she always used to do at home when she had a headache. Draw. She rolled out of bed, trying not to move her head too much. Cass changed into her blue dress, and after pulling on her boots, strapped her swords about her waist. Picking up her paper and a piece of charcoal that had long been lying on the table, Cass slowly walked out of her room.

She met no one on her way, guessing that she was too late to meet Tristan, but too early to meet the others. Cass was glad. She had to wait a while to get the headache out of her system before she'd be in any mood to talk to anyone. Cass walked through the Fort, trying to decide what she should draw, and enjoying the cool wind that blew against her face. She found herself at the Fort's stable, and the relative emptiness of people led her inside. No one was inside, and Cass saw that Tristan's horse was gone. She had planned to draw her; but there were other horses in the stable though, and Cass took a breath as she finally settled herself in front of a bay horse.

As she started to draw, Cass couldn't help but be happy to be drawing again, only now noticing how much she'd missed it since she'd stopped after completing her pictures of the Knights. Cass's hand moved across the paper creating lines, and smoothing their edges before deepening the detail. The horse she was drawing was beautiful; his hair was so smooth and held a glossy sheen where the light hit it.

In her drawing the horse, Cass had almost forgotten how unpredictable she knew horses could be; she'd almost forgotten how frightened she really used to be of them. The one she was drawing just seemed so gentle and relaxed. It made her smile as she drew.

When she was finished, Cass stood, realising that her headache was pretty much gone. Cass wondered if her headache had really only been to do with her mind being so focussed on those two faces that that had caused her pain, but whose lives she had ended. To take her mind from the images that had re-entered her thoughts, for a moment, she admired her work; though Cass chastised herself for not really doing the creature justice.

She placed her paper and what was left of the charcoal on a stool beside the horse's stall and walked towards the bay horse. It tilted its head to her, more inquiringly than what Cass would have usually interpreted as foreshadowing hostility. For the first time, she actually _wanted _to get closer to a horse- and for the first time, she didn't think that the horse before her had taken a dislike to her as others had.

Cass' hand tentatively reached up to the horse. When his head moved toward her hand, Cass almost jerked it away; but she didn't. She managed to keep her hand still enough until the tips of her fingers met the horse's muzzle. He nuzzled into the palm of Cass' hand and she smiled. She couldn't really work out why it was that she'd suddenly taken such an interest in this particular horse; she was just glad that is seemed to like her- which was more than could be said for Tristan's horse.

"Well that's a first," a male voice from behind her said.

Cass' head whipped around to face the Knight standing behind her; her hand losing contact with the horse.

"Gawain. What do you mean?" Cass asked confusedly.

"He doesn't like anybody," Gawain answered as he moved closer to her and the horse.

Cass couldn't see how the horse in front of her didn't like anybody. He had behaved nothing but friendlily towards her since she'd first seen him.

"He likes _you_," Cass said quietly.

She saw something cross his face and wondered what it could be.

"Is he yours?" she asked, before remembering that Gawain's horse, like Tristan's, was dappled grey in colour.

Gawain shook his head slowly.

"He was my brother, Gareth's."

Cass could hear the half-concealed pain in his voice. _"He was my brother." _Was_. He must have... _she thought. Cass looked around at the golden-haired Knight and placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, wishing that she hadn't been so stupid as to ask what she'd thought was a harmless question.

All that she could see that her question had done was bring a fresh pain into Gawain's eyes. A silence followed in which Gawain moved to pick up a brush from the side of the stall. As he started to brush his brother's horse, Cass found herself wondering if Gareth had looked like Gawain; how he'd died; _when _he died. Of course, she'd never ask; but she still wondered. Cass heard Gawain sigh. He didn't want to talk about it, and she understood that.

"Erm... Well... I'll just... leave you," Cass said quietly, stumbling over her words.

She didn't want to witness a pain that Gawain seemed like was trying so hard to conceal. Cass picked up the picture of Gareth's horse, her paper and charcoal and made for the door. She wanted to leave him in peace. _No matter how long ago it happened, losing a brother must be one of the hardest things anyone has to live with, _she thought sadly. But as she reached the door, Cass heard Gawain's voice.

"His name is Kaydin."

She paused, turning back to the Knight and the bay horse that he'd momentarily stopped brushing. She saw an almost-smile flicker on Gawain's face as he continued; his voice melancholic.

"Both Gareth and Bors' horses were shot down by Woads in the same battle. Kaydin was supposed to be Bors' replacement, but if I recall correctly, he wouldn't let Bors near him. The only one that could get anywhere near him was Gareth, so he and Bors swapped and Gareth got Kaydin. Eventually, Kaydin- because of Gareth I expect- let me near him too, but he's never really liked anyone else. He's definitely got something against Lancelot that I've never been able to figure out."

He took a breath. Cass' lips were slightly turned into a tiny smile that was unseen by Gawain. He was still wrapped up in his thoughts.

"After Gareth... A year ago was the last time he let anyone ride him properly. I can only take him out for some small measure of exercise, but he doesn't much like me. I think he just puts up with me because I take care of him."

Cass listened to the man speak. She felt sorry for both Gawain and Kaydin. It was almost as if they were bound together through the death of Gawain's brother.

"But I was wondering; since he likes you-"

Cass caught on to where Gawain was heading and her mouth opened to object. But she didn't. There was something about Kaydin that made Cass feel that she could relax around him- a feeling that no horse had _ever_ given her.

"-Perhaps you could ride him. I hear that Tristan's teaching you..."

"I'm not very good though," Cass blushed and said quietly.

Gawain shook his head, "A few more lessons and you should try with Kaydin."

Cass didn't have a chance to answer before hoof beats drew her to turn. She saw Tristan riding towards the stable door and moved so that he could enter. Tristan dismounted and turned to the girl he'd passed, the glint clear in his eyes. Cass smiled and walked over to him. His hand reached out to caress her cheek, he didn't kiss her though, and Cass could almost tell that he was still checking to make sure that she was okay. She nodded. _He doesn't need to know about the sleep... or the lack of it... or the headache..._ she thought, dismissing what had been bothering her earlier that morning. Tristan bent his neck and claimed her lips in a kiss that was now so familiar to Cass.

They were interrupted by Gawain's voice, "Nice to see you too, Tristan."

Cass pulled back from Tristan with a small smile, a blush staining her cheeks. She waited for Tristan to unsaddle his horse, ever so occasionally looking over to where Gawain stood brushing his brother's horse. Cass saw that his expression had become melancholic once more but she mentioned nothing of it to Tristan as they left the long-haired Knight in the stable. Cass took her picture and art things back to her room, but not until after Tristan had asked to see what she'd drawn. Cass reluctantly revealed the picture of Kaydin; no matter who it was she was showing, Cass still hated people seeing what she'd drawn.

"Beautiful," he remarked, handing her the picture back.

She placed it on the table in her room, beside the only other picture she'd drawn at the Fort that she had kept for herself; the drawing of the graveyard. Tristan led her then to the tavern, his hand on the small of her back urging her forward. A small blush crossed her cheeks and Cass reprimanded herself once again for being unable to stop blushing. Before Cass could even take her seat beside Tristan at the corner table, Vanora pulled her off to stand beside the bar top. Cass blinked, not knowing what the smiling woman could have to say to her that involved literally dragging her across the tavern.

"Vanora, what's going on?" Cass asked, smiling bemusedly at the beaming woman before her.

Vanora simply shushed Cass and after a small pause, she said, "Promise me you won't tell Bors- or any of them in fact."

Cass raised her eyebrows, unsure of what had made the usually quite mature woman seem so smiley and giggly, like one of her older, excited children.

"Promise," Vanora repeated, almost as if she was now talking to one of those children.

"Alright, I promise. Now what's got you in such a good mood?" Cass asked, still confused.

Vanora half-whispered the next words excitedly, "I'm pregnant... Again."

Cass blinked, but her smile grew as she looked at the woman. _Again... I'll never understand how she could have so many children_, Cass thought as Vanora waited for her response.

"Vanora, that's... that's brilliant! Congratulations!" Cass said, embracing the older woman.

"Shhhh," Vanora grinned as she noticed that the two of them had started to draw glances from the Knights.

"Why don't you want them to know?" Cass asked as she released Vanora from her grip.

Vanora grinned knowingly and answered, "In a few days the Knights will only have one year left on their contract. I want to tell Bors then."

"I'm sure that'll be a great surprise," Cass said, not really thinking that child number eleven would be a surprise that he would want on that night.

_ Then again, Bors definitely is a family man- even if he won't admit it_, Cass thought. Then what Vanora had said finally sank in; in a few days, the Knights would have only a year left of their contract with Rome. Which meant that she only had that long before her nightmares became reality. Cass made up her mind and took a breath. She decided that, in view of this news, she would tell Vanora about her plan to join the Knights on their missions. And something in the back of Cass' mind told her that now was the right time to do it.

"Vanora?"

The red-headed woman waited for Cass to speak.

"I know you just gave me some incredibly happy news, and... and I don't want to turn this conversation sour, but I... I've been meaning to speak to you about this for a while and..."

"Cass, you're rambling again," Vanora interrupted, still smiling at the girl she knew that sometimes had trouble expressing herself.

Cass sighed.

"Listen Vanora, I... I'm going to ask the Knights if I can go with them on missions."

The older woman blinked; the smile slipping from her expression and turning to a frown.

"You're _what?_"

Cass swallowed and continued, "I'm going to ask the Knights if I can go out with them on their missions. Before you say anything though, let me explain something. Do you remember when I was telling you about those dreams I had, and about how I thought one of the stories I'd heard might be true?"

Vanora nodded, listening intently to Cass' words.

"Well, I think I've figured it out. And I'm not sure I really like the conclusion I came to."

_ Understatement of the year_, Cass thought as she took a breath.

"There are some things that I know are going to happen, and I know when they're going to happen; and if I know what and when... maybe I can stop those things from happening."

Vanora stared at the girl from the future, unsure if Cass had gone mad or not. The last part of Cass' speech had a distinct ring to them though; one that Vanora could only put down to Cass knowing that something very bad was going to happen.

"How badly do you need to change these things that you know are coming?" Vanora asked, trying to gage the severity of what Cass was talking about.

Cass didn't even need to think about her response as she answered, "I'm not letting them happen, Vanora. I _can't_."

Vanora's frown deepened, and she nodded once to the girl before her. She was getting worried now, not just for Cass, who was planning to put herself into harm's way, but for the Knights. Vanora realised then what it was that Cass' words rang with; dread.

"Cass... How are you ever going to convince them...?" Vanora asked, finally deciding to take what Cass knew from the future as a possibility of their own future.

Cass stared back at Vanora. In truth, she still had no idea, and she told Vanora so.

"But before I can even ask, I have to be able to ride."

"Ask what?"

Both women jumped as they saw Tristan by their side. They hadn't noticed him approach, but from his question, Cass could tell that he had not heard their conversation.

"Nothing," Cass answered, a little too quickly.

Tristan's eyebrows rose, but he did not question her. Vanora excused herself and left Cass with the silent scout. Cass smiled; her face bright red; and to distract Tristan from what she was hiding from him, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. She was gone before he could even open his mouth to speak.

**Author's Note: Yes, I know, I'm still on hiatus- BUT, I was having a break, and I was really happy because I got an offer from Chester University 3 so I thought that I'd give you guys a chapter. :) Enjoy! :)**

**Kit xx**


	37. Horse Problems

Tristan caught up with Cass almost immediately, even though she had set out to the other side of the tavern at quite a speed. To her relief though, Tristan did not ask again what she and Vanora had been talking about. He merely came up behind her, his fingers reaching out to entwine themselves in a curl that fell down her back. It made her shiver and turn to him with a sideways smile.

"Tristan..." Cass said; starting a sentence that she knew didn't have an end.

The glint in his eye sparked as he waited, almost amused, for her to finish her sentence. She frowned at him then, a very nearly playful light lingering in her eyes. The corners of his lips turned upward into a sort of smile and he shook his head slightly at the girl before him. A smile broke through Cass' feigned frown and she couldn't help but want to laugh, though she wasn't even sure why.

"Cass," he said, mimicking her as he pulled her closer to him.

Tristan's hand wound its way through her hair until it found its way to rest, cupping around the curve of the back of her neck. He claimed her lips with a gentle touch and stopped short the laugh that he thought so beautiful. Cass grinned into his kiss, taking the moment enjoy the feel of his lips on hers. As he pulled back, Cass was given a glimpse once more at the glint in his deep, brown eyes. Tristan enfolded the girl in his arms, his eyes questioning her as she leant into him.

"Busy today?" she asked into his chest.

"Never too busy for you," he answered quietly, both of them knowing that that meant missions excluded.

Cass knew that he couldn't help that though, but if she had her way, then she'd get to be with him on those days too.

"I was just wondering if you might- if you could keep teaching me how to ride?"

Tristan's eyebrows rose, but he simply nodded in response, earning a white-toothed smile and a small kiss from Cass. He had given up his wondering about her change of heart when it came to riding, choosing to see it as a positive. The pair headed to the stable once the tavern was clear enough of people that Cass was happy leaving Vanora alone to deal with the customers.

"Honestly, Cass," Vanora said, as she had said goodbye.

"I managed perfectly fine before you came, I'm sure I can manage for a few hours when you're gone."

It was said with a smile but still made Cass blush and feel the need to apologise. She'd just thought that if she were Vanora, she wouldn't be too happy to be left alone with a lot of demanding customers. But she wasn't like Vanora. Vanora was the type of person who could have ten- _eleven,_ Cass reminded herself- children, whereas Cass had never been able to see passed having two at the most. Not that she thought about having children, it was just something she'd pondered on once when a family friend had triplets. Cass shivered at the thought of having three children at once. She'd never know how her family's friend and Vanora dealt with so many children. Cass shook her head with a smile, and Tristan looked at her enquiringly.

She simply replied with another shake of her head and a quiet, "Doesn't matter."

They reached the stable quickly, Cass' eagerness to begin still driving her to want to practise. When they entered the stable, Cass found herself almost immediately glancing toward where Kaydin's stall was, only to find it empty. _Gawain must have taken him out,_ she thought, glad that the horse was able to get out of the stables at least for a little bit.

Tristan didn't notice; but got her to help him saddle his horse. As it turned out, the thing that Cass found the hardest was actually lifting the saddle over the horse. Tristan almost laughed, the glint twinkling in his eyes as he helped the small girl put the saddle into place. Tristan gestured for her to mount his dappled-grey steed, and she did, finding it easier than she had before. _I must be getting used to it_, Cass thought, a small smile flickering across her features. But when Tristan opened the stable doors, Cass blinked.

"Tristan..." she said with a wary tone to her voice.

"Come. We're going outside."

She blinked again, taken aback by the sudden suggestion. Cass almost grimaced at the thought of actually having to ride in a place where she might be seen- and she certainly had been given the distinct impression that she was being watched an awful lot recently, though she could not determine why. Her feelings were mixed however, as she was almost relieved not to have to ride around in circles anymore. The last time she'd done that, she'd felt dizzy for a long while.

Cass led the horse towards the door, wondering where about outside they were headed, and Tristan walked along beside them. The Fort was bustling with activity, but Tristan's horse didn't seem to mind; it was Cass that was having the problem. It seemed that no matter how long she'd been at the Fort, or how long she and Tristan had been together, people seemed still to gossip and throw wandering stares over at her and the quiet Knight.

When they were through the Fort's gates, Cass breathed a sigh of relief and tried to soothe the blush on her cheeks that still seemed to blossom every time anyone stared at her. Tristan walked further away from the Fort and the vast Wall that it met with, taking her out into the middle of the large grassy plain beyond.

Cass smiled at the sight; she had only now really remembered that in the 21st Century there was barely anywhere that was still just green like this plain, how everything had been perverted by man's atrocities- like skyscrapers. Cass hated the ugly, metal buildings that made a jungle of steel and glass. Contrastingly, the plain she surveyed now was beautiful- and she would never change her opinion about that.

Tristan stopped and Cass met his eyes. They seemed to her to be telling her to just get on with it; to start riding. Cass hesitated, instead waiting for his actual words as a signal. She was glad then that she hadn't started, because the meaning behind Tristan's eyes had been different to the one than she had thought.

He gave her new instructions that made her realise why he'd brought her outside. He began to explain how she should canter. Cass took a breath and listened, trying to understand how she could find the rhythm of the horse's stride and settle into it. It almost seemed simpler than trotting, as she only had to sit in the saddle instead of rising and falling in it. Cass found, in fact, that when she tried to get Tristan's horse to canter, that it came quite easily. _It almost feels like being on a rocking horse_, she thought as she rode, _but only with a giant animal that's so unpredictable I can't actually decide if it likes me or not. _After a while, Cass came to a stop before Tristan.

"That was good," he said, his head tilted to the side.

"It was more relaxing than I thought it would be," Cass admitted.

He seemed to think for a moment about something, and Cass just watched him from the horse. An almost-smile turned his lips upward at the corners slightly and he moved to touch his horse's neck. What Tristan said next though made her need to take a second. She actually had to stop herself from refusing his offer to instruct her in galloping. Cass knew she had to learn, but she couldn't help but feel almost as if she wasn't ready for it. She dismissed it by telling herself to _suck it up_, and nodding to Tristan.

Cass listened to Tristan as he explained what she should do next, trying to remember _exactly_ what she had to do. He told her, like with the horse's other gaits, how she had to fall into the horse's rhythm, to try and become a part of it. How she should lean along the horse's neck and keep her knees firm.

Cass could already predict that that would cause her some problems as she grew more nervous and her knees grew weaker. She wouldn't let Tristan see that though, so as he told her to keep the reins gathered in her hands and not to let there be too much slack, Cass focussed completely on his instructions.

Her nerves when it came to having to gallop were jittery at best, but she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. It didn't work. And Tristan's horse could sense it, taking advantage of her moment of weakness and deciding that it meant that she could get away with anything. As Cass spurred Tristan's horse into motion, the horse, at first, merely tried to misbehave. But when she grew annoyed at Cass' attempts, she bolted, taking Cass along with her.

Cass had thought before that Tristan's horse was having a good day, deciding for once that it was actually going to be nice to her. But as she clung onto the horse's reins, she saw only more proof that Tristan's horse just hated her. _Stop, stop, stop, STOP. _Cass kept repeating the word over and over in her mind. She really just wanted not to be on Tristan's horse any longer- but not enough to make her let go of the reins and risk falling to the ground.

Cass closed her eyes, not wanting to see where the horse was taking her or to notice the speed at which they were travelling. She didn't even see Tristan running after them. He couldn't catch them, the horse was going too fast, and Cass couldn't come up with anything that would make them slow down.

It was lucky for Cass that Gawain was just returning from his ride with Kaydin at about the same time as Tristan's horse bolted. He manoeuvred himself and Kaydin beside Tristan's horse and took the reins from Cass's white-knuckled grip. Gawain managed to pull them to a stop, and as soon as he had, Cass threw herself off the horse and moved away. Tristan was by her side as soon as his feet could get him to her.

Cass was breathing heavy, almost to a state of hyperventilation. Tristan's hands gripped her shoulders, steadying her. _Great way to show him you can ride_, Cass thought, angry at herself. She sighed and looked up at him, into his questioningly worried eyes.

"Tristan, I'm fine... I just wasn't _really_ expecting that to happen," Cass said, trying to soothe the tension with a small sort of smile.

He clearly did not see it as anything to laugh about; he was staring at her seriously. It almost hurt her that every time something put her in any amount of danger, no matter how small, he was so protective. It made her wonder how she could ever convince him to let him join the Knights on their missions. Even her attempts to make him think that she was strong weren't working.

"I _did_ tell you before that your horse didn't like me," Cass said, looking back to the dappled-grey animal behind her.

Tristan looked at her still so seriously.

"I'm tempted to say that she's right, you know," Gawain said from atop of Kaydin.

Tristan's serious glare turned to Gawain who held up his hands in an appeasing gesture.

"Perhaps I should try working on my control before I try that again," Cass said quietly.

"And stopping. That'd be good," Gawain chipped in.

Tristan frowned, almost as if he didn't want her to try it again. Tristan didn't want to admit it, but he hadn't ever known his horse to act in such a way before. _It's almost as if she _doesn't_ like Cass_, he thought regretfully. And he couldn't let what had just happened happen again- if there was a next time, it could well end far worse.

"There's still the option I gave you earlier," Gawain interrupted for the third time.

Cass blinked, and both she and Tristan stared at him. Cass hadn't said anything of Kaydin since Gawain had suggested she ride him earlier that morning, so she knew that Tristan didn't know what he meant. Gawain explained though, and Tristan just continued to stare at him.

"Kaydin hates everyone," Tristan said blankly.

Gawain shrugged and answered, "That's what I thought; but apparently he likes Cass."

Tristan seemed to think for a moment, before turning back to Cass. He was looking at her in a way that she didn't really understand.

"Would you?" he asked, his head tilting as he questioned her.

"Ride Kaydin?" Cass asked.

He nodded. Cass thought for a second; but a second was all she really needed. Kaydin did seem to like her- no matter what she'd heard about him hating others. And Tristan's horse had never really been an option anyway. She couldn't very well just ride with Tristan; she'd just get in his way. And his horse really didn't like her, she knew now for certain- and after bolting, she wasn't sure how fond she was of the creature anymore.

She exhaled with an almost-smile playing on her lips, and answered in almost a whisper, "...Yes."

**Author's Note: I'm so crap at being on hiatus. :P So here's another chapter for you guys; I wrote it whilst taking a revision break. Back to the dreaded revision for the dreaded exam on the dreaded Monday (Okay, so Monday's not dreaded, but I'm definitely not looking forward to it! :/)**

**Please do review guys, it might help me to get through my exam stress and be able to get a new chapter up by next week. :)**

**Kit xx**


	38. A Bad Day

The next day, Cass sat alone in the tavern tearing chunks free of the piece of bread in her hands that she knew she wouldn't finish. The tavern was basically empty, save for herself, three others and a group of Romans at the far wall, so Cass just sat, staring at the table. She was mulling the events of the previous day over in her mind; and the thing that most definitely stood out to her was Kaydin.

In one day, she'd met and found her horse; and he was perfect for her. Cass couldn't help but think how strange the connection that had so quickly formed between them was; but it was far more than she'd had with any other horse. Gawain and Tristan had even helped her to ride Kaydin. She'd say that she found it hard, but in truth, she had found it easier to ride Kaydin than she ever had to ride Tristan's horse. Not that riding Kaydin had been easy for her; just _easier_.

Her thoughts were pulled back to the present as Galahad sat down in his usual seat, the one next to Tristan's now empty seat. She smiled at him, and he returned it weakly as he leaned back in his chair.

"Morning," Cass said politely, placing the bread in her hands back on the plate where the torn away chunks lay.

"How are you?"

Galahad shrugged. She'd noticed that he didn't seem to be acting as normal, but she felt rude to ask more than once.

"It's just one of _those_ days," he answered after a long while.

Cass just nodded back. She knew that occasionally the Knights had days where they felt as Galahad did now, but she also knew, from what Vanora had said, that there wasn't really anything to be done about it. Still, Cass felt bad that she couldn't do anything to make him feel better.

"Do you want anything to eat?" Cass asked, trying to be helpful.

Galahad shook his head, still so quiet. Cass exhaled, leaning her elbows on the tabletop. They sat in a relative silence that Cass was used to, having spent so much time with Tristan; but she couldn't help but feel that this silence was different.

"I was thinking of going to train..." Cass said, more to fill the gap then for any other reason.

She hadn't had a chance to train since Tristan had cut her, and she hadn't fought since the Woads. Something told Cass that Tristan had let her focus so much on learning to ride in an attempt to distract her from training. She actually _wanted_ to go out and practise again.

Galahad took a long, deep breath before replying slowly, "I'll come with you."

_Perhaps that will help to take his mind off things_, Cass thought as she and Galahad left the tavern, turning their separate ways to collect their weapons. They met again at the Fort's Gates, and walked up to the training hill together in the whistling morning breeze.

They sparred with each other for a time, before Cass noticed that Galahad's heart wasn't really in it. She instead suggested that they try training more with a bow. Since living at the Fort, Cass had discovered that Galahad's favourite weapon was a bow- it was also a most dissociated weapon, and Cass had a suspicion that that was because he, even more than the others, hated killing.

"I still have a lot to learn," Cass said in her efforts to get him to become more involved.

After a pause, a smile flickered onto the face of the youngest Knight, and he replied, "I'll say. You've not even tried to hit a moving target yet. Though, when you do, just make sure there's no one you like in front of you- I remember your aim when you started train."

His eyebrows rose as Cass' face formed a feigned hurt expression, her cheeks red as she said, "Galahad, I _am_ shocked. I thought perhaps everyone had decided to lay off the 'she can't aim' jokes by now, but no; clearly not."

Her response elicited a small laugh from her maudlin companion. Cass smiled too; glad that she could bring some happiness- even so small as that laugh- to Galahad, who was known for his occasionally moody and depressed days. Shooting moving objects though, went about as sourly as Galahad had felt earlier that morning. She sighed, realising that yet another thing might hold her back from the task she'd set herself. The day seemed only to get progressively worse after that, as when Cass and Galahad returned to the Fort, they were met by Jols.

"Galahad. Cass," he said, nodding to them both.

The pair nodded back as he continued.

"The others are waiting for you in the hall," he said to Galahad.

The Knight's face darkened and he replied with a question, "Why?"

"Tristan came back with news. Something about Woads attacking villages."

Cass blinked. _Oh no, _she thought. _Not another mission._ She didn't say anything though as both men disappeared, but inwardly, her thoughts trailed over the fact that she couldn't go with the Knights yet. That she felt so useless when she could be helping them. A cough sounded from behind her. It was only then that Cass realised that she was still stood where Galahad and Jols had left her, blocking the way of anyone that wanted to pass. Cass turned, ready to apologise, a blush on her cheeks. But her apology caught in her throat.

"You should really watch where you stand. You could get killed," the smooth voice of a man standing a little too close to her said.

The last part of what he said still hung in the air, making Cass pause. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't think what to say. She just looked at him instead. The man's fair hair fell in waves across his face, just barely meeting his thick eyebrows. His hazel eyes raked over her, an almost amusement creasing wrinkles beside them as a smirk took hold of his lips.

"You're standing in the middle of the road. If a wagon or any horseman rode in fast, you'd be flattened."

Cass blinked at the casual sort of humour that imbued his words. She blushed more though, feeling more embarrassed that she'd misinterpreted some advice that she knew she should probably listen to.

"Oh," she replied.

"Thanks... I'm sorry... I wasn't-"

"Paying attention?" he interrupted.

Cass' smile was awkward and fake, but it came anyway as she tilted her head in response. She moved out of the road, but was surprised as the man followed her.

"Well, um... thanks," Cass said, trying to end the conversation before it began.

Her mind was too focussed on Tristan and the others most probably leaving for a mission in a matter of hours; she didn't want to have to make small talk with some strange man.

"I've not seen you around the Fort before," he said.

Inwardly, Cass groaned.

"Likewise," she answered politely, offering nothing more for conversation's sake.

_I'm probably being incredibly rude right now, _Cass thought a little guiltily. But she didn't like how smooth he seemed to be trying to be. Her thoughts turned back to Tristan as she tried to distract herself from the man before her.

"I'm Aldwyn," the fair-haired man said.

He waited for a while, but Cass gave no response. She didn't want to give her name to this man. She'd rather just be elsewhere instead of being in this awkward situation.

"This is the part where you tell me your name," Aldwyn said, his smirk never faltering.

Cass tried to resist sighing as she reluctantly replied with her full name; she only let her friends call her Cass.

His lips formed her name slowly, "Cassandra."

"Yes," she said, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as time went on.

"Er, if you'll excuse me, I really have to go-"

"Maybe I can walk you wherever you're going?" Aldwyn suggested, his eyebrows raised in some way that Cass didn't understand.

Cass bit her bottom lip. This was where she'd wished that the conversation hadn't been headed.

"Er... I'm really not sure that that would be a good idea..."

Aldwyn paused. He kept trying though, not taking Cass' obvious hint.

"You're not wearing a ring, which means you're not married. So what's the problem?" he asked.

Cass cheeks rouged as she answered uneasily, "Actually, I am... _with_ somebody."

The smirk faded slightly from Aldwyn's face. He didn't say what he was thinking, but merely nodded, choosing a different set of words instead.

"Perhaps I'll see you around the Fort at some point," he said as he walked away from Cass.

Her eyes followed him as he left; a silent sigh slipping raggedly from her lips. She was certainly glad that the awkward embarrassment Aldwyn had just created was fading now, as was her blush. _That was just odd_, Cass thought as she headed for the tavern. She knew that Tristan would meet her there before he left- or that that would be the first place he'd look for her anyway.

Vanora wasn't in the tavern when Cass arrived, so Cass merely settled herself in her chair, placing her weapons on the tabletop. Cass wasn't sure how long she waited for Tristan, but it wasn't too long, and for that, she was grateful. The sight of him brought a real smile back to her face, even though she knew that the fact he was already wearing most of his armour meant that he was definitely leaving on a mission. Cass stood and moved around the table to meet him.

"Tristan," she said as he approached.

He said nothing, but placed a small kiss to her lips.

"Is it bad? Will you be gone long?" she asked quietly.

Tristan's eyes left hers and she could not determine how long that that must have meant. She knew that it was not likely to be a short time from the way he was acting. Cass's hands reached up to his cheeks, her fingers lightly pressing over the tattoos there. Their lips met again in a passionate kiss; there was something almost urgent about it.

"Just come back in one piece, okay?" she said as she pulled back.

Amusement creased his features into one of his rare smiles.

"Always," he said back in a low and quiet voice.

"You'd better. Or you'll have me to answer to."

He laughed slightly, a rare sound from him, and he mockingly answered, "I'm scared now."

"You? Scared? Never." Cass answered with a sceptical smile.

Tristan's smile faded quickly though, as he remembered he was headed out on a mission. Cass frowned too when she saw his thoughts seem to drift. She knew he had to go, but she wasn't sure she was ready to let him quite yet. Cass pulled him down into another kiss and held him there until they were both breathless.

"I'll miss you," she whispered.

He placed one last, small kiss to her forehead and was gone. Cass sighed, standing for a while as she worried. But finally she picked up her weapons and walked in the same direction as Tristan had just minutes before. She wondered if she'd get to the Wall in time to see Tristan and the others ride out. But when she climbed the stone staircase of the Wall and met Vanora on her way down, Cass knew that she was too late.

She sighed and turned around. Vanora shared a small and sad smile with her as they walked together back through the Fort. They separated as Cass left to put her weapons -bar the two swords that she always kept with her- in her room. She left her things on the table and stared out of her window. In the whole time she'd been at the Fort, she'd never once actually taken any notice of what was outside of her room.

There was a small street, tight, but full of mismatched buildings. There were people lining the street, but they weren't the type of people that seemed to walk around the rest of the Fort. Their dark, suspicious looks and the way they seemed to gather in small groups reminded Cass of a group with a less than respectable nature.

That was when Cass realised that she never actually closed her curtains- in day _or_ night. _You should close them more often. Like, about now,_ Cass thought as she drew the curtains closed. Her room was darker, but it made her feel a bit better to know that none of the shady characters from outside could see into her room anymore. It got worse the more she thought about it though; this time remembering how many times she'd changed without even realising that someone could be looking in. Cass shivered and groaned, throwing herself onto her bed.

_What a crap day,_ she thought. Burying her face in her pillow, Cass' thoughts turned to Tristan. _I hope he'll be okay, _shethought_. Well, he should be. He's not supposed to... _die_... until that day_. Images of her memories and dreams flickered back into her mind and her fist curled around the material beneath her. _No. That won't happen._

Cass tried to forget those memories, tried to block them from her mind. She tried to distract herself, and the only thing that worked was thinking of Tristan's goodbye. Of his smile. His lips. His kisses. Cass closed her eyes and thought about the time she'd spent with him. It had been the most enjoyable time of her life and she hadn't even realised. But Cass drifted into a deep sleep before she could; and even before she knew that she was tired.

**Author's Note: Well, I'm back. Yes, for good now. The hiatus is over, so updates _should_ be more regular from now on- that is, if I can sort out some issues I'm having on this site. Hope you like this chapter- for some reason it took me three days to write. =| So anyways, I think this chapter is a little bitty; but please do review and tell me what you think of it. :)**

**Oh, and I hope you guys don't mind me shamelessly flogging another King Arthur fanfic I'm writing, called "Silence Is Everything"- I'm not sure if it's worth continuing, so I'd love to know what you guys think. :)**

**Kit xx**


	39. One By One

_Afternoon naps are the way forward_, Cass thought as she woke. Unusually, she hadn't dreamt of anything; and Cass sat up, rubbing her eyes while she considered this. She hadn't even dreamt of the Knights; but she was thankful for that. She didn't want to see them die over and over again in her nightmares as she usually did when the Knights were away. Cass sat up in her bed, wondering how long she'd slept for as her now-concealed window gave no light as an indication.

She shifted, just about to roll out of bed before she realised that she had fallen asleep still wearing her swords. _Well that was stupid_, she thought with a sigh. As she stood up, Cass squinted through the darkness of her room and went straight for the door. She walked into the corridor, and found that it was empty. But what saddened her, was that the emptiness of the corridor and its surrounding rooms was only emphasised because she knew that the Knights would be gone for a reasonably long time.

Outside, Cass saw that her sleep had lost her a good few hours, as the sky was now a darkening blue colour, casting shadows upon the surrounding buildings. The air held a chill that blew infrequently, occasionally whipping Cass' black curls back from her face, her dress rippling behind her. She went to the tavern only to immediately see how busy the place was.

Vanora was swamped. Cass had never really seen Vanora look dishevelled; but she certainly did now. And it didn't take long for Cass to figure out why. On top of the taverns usual business, Vanora's children were running around the tavern, causing all sorts of havoc. Cass met Vanora at the bar, about to ask what she could do to help- but the older woman spoke first.

"Cass, would you mind rounding up my children for me?" she asked wearily.

"Yes, sure. I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier, I... sort of, fell asleep.

Vanora waved the matter off, just glad that Cass would help her control her children so that she could get back to work. For some reason, all ten of them just seemed not to want to behave that night.

"Do you want me to take them back to your rooms?"

Vanora gave her a grateful smile and answered, "Please."

"Oh, Vanora?"

"Hm?"

"What should I do when I get them there?"

Vanora tilted her head and smiled slightly as she replied, "They like stories."

"Stories?"

Vanora nodded and turned away. _Great, become a storyteller_, Cass thought, almost daunted by the prospect of it. As Vanora moved to fill more of the stem of never-ending empty glasses, Cass turned to look for Vanora's children. She hadn't quite known what she'd let herself in for. It was like they were everywhere all at once; Cass couldn't even think where to start to round them all up. _And when I do round them up, how do I get them to stay with me? _Cass asked herself. Her problem was given a sliver of an answer though, when One ran in front of her. One was the oldest of Vanora and Bors' children, and also the most mature of the bunch.

"One!" Cass shouted over the noise of the tavern.

The girl of about ten years old stopped and turned back to Cass. She smiled at her so cheekily that Cass was almost sure that she would run off at any second.

"Hey, hang on a minute, I need to ask you to do something for me," Cass said, trying to hold the girl's attention.

One made a face. She was having too much fun to want to stop and do whatever boring thing that she thought Cass would try to make her do. She was about to go back to playing with her siblings when she heard Cass speak again.

"Oh, well if you don't want to help then I won't make you. I just thought since you're such a clever girl that you might be able to help... But if you don't want to, I'm sure that I'll be able to manage," Cass said, using what she'd learned of reverse psychology from her Aunt and cousins in an attempt to make One actually want to help.

Luckily, it seemed to work and Cass seemed to have captured One's full attention as the little girl answered, "I _am_ a clever girl, I _can_ do it!"

"Really? Well it involves being a really big girl, and helping me get all of your brothers and sisters together. Do you think you could help me do that?"

One nodded, her mess of darkish brown hair flopping around. Cass and One spent the next five minutes or so trying to find and persuade the other children to stand still in one place. One by one, they managed to round the children up. As it turned out, One was far more successful in gathering her siblings than Cass ever could be- even _with_ her use of reverse psychology.

Finally, when all ten of the children were gathered in a little semi-circle around Cass, she blinked. They all stared up at her, just waiting for what she'd called them to her for. Part of her was saying, _Come on, Cass. Take a bit of control._ But another part of her was screaming, _TOO MANY CHILDREN. _Needless to say, she ignored the second thought as she smiled at them.

"Your mother," she paused, giving the children a sideways smile.

"Has told me that you all like stories; is that right?"

Ten now-smiling and bright-eyed faces nodded back at her. Cass continued, not really expecting such a positive response.

"Well, as it happens, _I_ know quite a few stories-"

Cass wasn't given a chance to finish before one of the children- though it was hard for Cass to determine who it was that spoke from the large group in front of her- said, "Will you tell us some?"

"Please?"

"Yes, please tell us."

"Well, I think it might be a bit too noisy in here, don't you?"

There was a pause, until one tiny voice piped up, "We could go home!"

After that suggestion, it was mere seconds before little hands grabbed at her hands and her dress, pulling her out of the tavern. Cass' eyes met Vanora's for a second as she was led out, and she caught a glimpse of the older woman's grin. The children took Cass back to their home, the place she'd only been to once on the day she'd arrived at the Fort. They took her through to a back room, one bigger than she remembered Vanora and Bors' room to be. It seemed that all ten of the children shared this room though, and when they were all settled, and Cass was among them, they begged her to tell them a story.

That was when her plan seemed to draw to a still. Cass hadn't thought quite far enough ahead to actually come up with a story to tell them. It hit her then though, that she didn't have to. She had a wealth of stories she'd heard in the 21st Century, fairy tales that had yet to be written. Was it technically plagiarism if the stories hadn't been written, their authors' not even born? No, it wasn't plagiarism... Not if she told the children that she'd not been the one to invent the stories, giving credit where it was due.

"Okay, so, I heard this story from my mother when I was a little girl. It was first told by two brothers, aptly named the Brothers Grimm," Cass began with a small smile.

The children listened quietly as Cass wove the tale of 'Snow White', just as she remembered hearing it. They were almost in awe at her telling it, both thoroughly enjoying the story as it was told and also almost frightened at the darkness in it. The happy ending was called for, and Cass gave it, giving smiles to the children around her. It was obvious that they enjoyed it, as they begged her for another. Cass chuckled to herself and gave in, beginning the next story. She was only half way through reciting 'Little Red Riding Hood' to those still awake when Vanora walked in.

"Vanora," Cass said with a small smile.

"Mummy!"

"Shouldn't you all be asleep right now?" Vanora asked, with one eyebrow raised.

"My fault, Vanora. I couldn't seem to stop talking once I started," Cass answered, standing up and stretching her legs.

"I'd better get going..."

"Wait, will you come back tomorrow and finish 'Little Red Riding Hood'?" Two asked sleepily from where he was sitting.

Cass looked at Vanora and said quietly, "Only if it's okay with you?"

Vanora grinned, "Of course. _If _the rest of you get to sleep now."

Cass and Vanora closed the door to the room, leaving the children to sleep.

"That's the quickest I've _ever_ seen them try to go to sleep. You must be some storyteller," Vanora said honestly as the two women stood in the corridor.

"Not really. I've just heard and read a lot of other people's stories; I merely repeated them."

"Thanks for taking them tonight anyway."

"Hey, anytime. Besides, I owed you for falling asleep and leaving you to deal with everything earlier."

Cass left Vanora's rooms for her own and she was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. The next morning Cass woke up having slept restlessly, her dreams plagued by the constant reoccurring nightmares of the faces of the Woads she'd killed, on top of those that hurt her most of all- those in which Dagonet, Lancelot and Tristan died in turn. Cass frowned as she woke. _Why can't I stop dreaming about that? _Cass thought. _I'm not letting it happen; it won't be real. So why does it bother me so much? _ She couldn't answer that question.

Cass changed into her red dress and headed outside with a piece of paper and charcoal. She wanted to go and see Kaydin, to draw him again, but she didn't make it even in the right direction as she left the corridor outside of her room. She saw Aldwyn not too far away, but luckily he hadn't noticed her yet. She didn't want to make polite conversation with him, just in case he didn't understand that she _was_ with Tristan and that was that.

She walked to the left, unknowingly headed down the street that she had seen from outside her window. Cass didn't realise until it was too late and she was deep into the tight alley. Much to Cass' relief, there was no one was around though. Or so she'd thought.

"Ohoho! What do we have here?" a deep voice with no owner said.

Cass stopped dead in her tracks. The voice came from somewhere in the shadows.

"Seems like this little woman's lost her way," a higher pitched male voice said back.

Instinctively, Cass' hands went for the swords at her waist.

"Oh, you _don't_ want to be doing that," the first voice said, almost as if he was sneering at her.

"And why is that?" Cass asked, trying to keep her voice calm as she searched the shadows of the alley for the faces of the two voices, finding nothing.

"Because it could just get you killed."

Cass frowned. She was certainly listening, but something in her kept flashing back to that night when Tristan had saved her from the Romans. Her hands stayed on the hilts of her swords then; she wouldn't let what those Romans wanted to do to her happen at the hands of these unattributed voices.

"Persistent, isn't she?" the second voice said.

"Perhaps if we explain that it might not just be her that gets killed if she don't do as we say."

"What are you talking about?" Cass asked, trying to conceal the fear slipping into her voice.

"What do you want?" she asked when she received no answer.

The voice of the first man chuckled and replied, "What do we want? Well, how about you agree to help us and then we'll tell you."

"How stupid do you think I am?" Cass said to the shadows.

"Oh, we don't think you're stupid. Just protective."

Cass was getting agitated on top of her worry now and she said angrily, "Whatever it is you want, just get it over with."

There was another pause.

"We want Arthur gone."

Cass blinked. That had not been at all what she'd been expecting. _They want Arthur gone?_

"What do you... Why?" Cass asked, confused.

"That half-Roman bastard thinks that he's in control. He thinks he's got everyone wrapped up in his ideals. Well, not us," the first voice sneered.

Cass didn't say anything for a long time, but neither did they. She couldn't figure out why they'd just told her their plot, and it seemed that they were going to wait until she asked. It made no sense for them to tell someone- especially someone as close to Arthur and the Knights as she was. _Unless, they want to use me to get to Arthur_, she thought, her eyes widening.

"And what is it that I have to do with this?" Cass questioned suspiciously.

"You're going to help us, of course. But I'm sure you already guessed that."

Cass stared in the direction that the voice came from, disgusted at even the suggestion that she would do such a thing.

"Screw you," she replied angrily and turned back in the direction she'd come from.

"You expect us to just let you go?" the second voice said, a smirk evident in his tone.

"Bodiless voices can't stop me," Cass shot back, daring them to reveal themselves.

Both voices laughed in response, causing Cass to pause.

"There are far more than just the two of us, girl. And we've been watching you for a _long_ time."

"Oh really?" Cass said, knowing that she couldn't leave now.

She needed to know the extent of this plot, and she'd have to tell Arthur as soon as he returned. But she couldn't reveal that that was what she was doing.

"You should close your curtains more often," the second voice smirked.

Cass grimaced, a blush dyeing her entire face deep red. She felt sick. But she knew that she'd have to hold it together.

"Besides, you don't want any harm to come to your friends, do you? That tavern woman? All her little bastard children? The Knights? That lover of yours?" the voice paused menacingly.

"You can minimise the damage. You can stop your friends from getting hurt."

Ignoring the obvious threats, Cass answered in a low voice, "_Arthur's_ my friend."

The first voice chuckled at her, "Good answer. But his death will be unavoidable."

_Death? No. No way._ Cass thought angrily.

"I will never help you do something like that. _Never_, do you hear me?" Cass answered, shouting into the shadows where the men had hidden themselves.

"But you will help us. Or we _will_ start to kill your friends. One by one."

Cass froze.

"Your scout goes out alone a lot, doesn't he? Wouldn't it be a shame if he just didn't come back?"

"You haven't got enough men to take down Tristan," Cass said, staring down the darkness.

"We have actually. But we could just ambush him and it'd all be over very quickly."

Cass scoffed and said, "That's impossible. _No one _can ambush Tristan."

"He hasn't noticed us trailing you since we started to; are you so sure that he could see us coming?" the second voice asked.

Cass couldn't say anything. Her heart was beating so fast that forcing herself to stand still was the only way she could stop herself from running now. Cass' neck bent and her eyes met the floor.

"We'll let you know what you need to do soon. Oh, and don't say a word about this. It'd be such a shame if one of those little bastards just disappeared, wouldn't it?"

"We'll be watching you," the second voice said ominously as Cass fled the alley.

She didn't know where to go. Cass knew that she couldn't go to her room, though her curtains were closed, and she couldn't go to Vanora and risk that the men involved in this plot should harm her or her children. Cass could only think of going to the stable, to see Kaydin. When she got there, Cass tried to make it seem as if she was okay. Placing her paper and charcoal on a stool, Cass went to start brushing Kaydin.

Cass couldn't get over what had happened though. Of course she'd made it look like she would help them- even if reluctantly. But she never would. She'd come up with something. A way to tell someone. Cass was sure that this wasn't meant to happen. She'd never heard of something like this in any story, and that was when doubts crept into her mind. _Is this plot only possible because of me? _But the thought that she found most sinister was what came next. _How much has my being here changed things?_

**Author's Note: You would have had this yesterday, but I was at a wedding, so here it is now. :) I think we had a fair few good chapters without anything too bad happening... Couldn't last though, could it? :P**

**Just a note broaching the subject of plagiarism as I did in this chapter; I absolutely hate it. It's one of the most horrible things to happen to a writer, I think, even if it is just ideas that the person is taking. :/ So if you've ever thought about doing it, please don't, it hurts- and I know that from experience.**

**Kit xx**


	40. Trying To Relax

She did not sleep that night. No matter how hard Cass tried, she couldn't stop thinking long enough to relax and actually fall asleep. She had left her curtains closed, and pulled a chair to barricade her door. Cass knew that it was a pretty pathetic barricade, but when she realised that she wasn't strong enough to move her table, the chair was the best she could do. _Those men aren't likely to try anything_, she thought. They needed her, or so they'd said. She just wasn't sure.

Cass was scared. Had this plot really been in existence before her arrival at the Fort? She didn't know, but she didn't think it likely. She couldn't stop from worrying, though she definitely had good reason to worry. They wanted to murder Arthur. _Arthur_. The future King of Britain. She _couldn't_ let that happen. _But how can I stop them alone? Or without anyone getting hurt?_ The only answer that she could come up with led her to believe that she couldn't.

Everything mulled over in her mind. She couldn't stop replaying that moment in the alley in her head, repeating the words they'd said over and over. Until at some point between the late night and early morning, Cass shot up in bed. _"That half-Roman bastard thinks that he's in control."_ _That's what they said. "Half-Roman." It's something,_ she thought as she realised that that probably meant these plotters _weren't _Roman. _It's something..._ But she could make nothing more from it.

When she judged that she could no longer stay in her room, waiting for the next morning to come, Cass pushed herself out of bed and dressed. Her swords were belted around her waist quickly. If before she had felt a little safer and had almost lost the need to have them with her, _now_ her fear was completely renewed. Cass tugged the chair out from under the door handle, freeing her door from its make-shift barricade.

As Cass walked into the cold, empty corridor, she couldn't help but sigh, and she found herself whispering, "Come back soon."

She realised that she needed them; needed Tristan. Cass knew that she'd have to tell him about the plot, but she had to find a way to do it that the plotters wouldn't know about. It was as she started walking out into the chill, early morning air, that an idea began to form in her head. It was small, and she would hate to be so misleading towards Tristan, but it was the only thing that she had.

Cass went to the tavern and found it utterly empty. She groaned, knowing that she really didn't want to be on her own. But she couldn't decide what was worse, being alone, or being in the tavern with someone that _could _be involved in the plot against Arthur. She really wanted to see Vanora; but knew that even seeing her friend held some danger for the older woman. Cass left the tavern, taking three of Tristan's apples with her. She went straight to the stables. Being with Kaydin had relaxed her somewhat the previous day; she just hoped that she might glean the same comfort again.

The stables were empty of people, and Cass smiled slightly as she saw Kaydin. He seemed happy enough at the sight of her too, though she assumed that that was just because of the apples in her hands. As she fed one to him, she bit into one herself; but it seemed that Kaydin had other ideas about her stealing his food and had soon eaten all three pieces of fruit. Cass smiled. He had already made her feel better.

She felt the need to get out of the Fort though, and the best idea that she had was to take Kaydin out. Cass slowly saddled the horse- _my horse now_, she supposed. She took a breath and mounted Kaydin, again noticing how much more comfortable she felt with him than she had with Tristan's horse. The two of them rode out, pausing only momentarily at the Fort's gates to be allowed to pass. Cass wondered briefly if any of the guards were in league with the men who had spoken to her, but she dismissed the thought when she remembered her idea that the men she'd spoken to probably weren't Roman.

The sun shone brightly, trying to combat the cold of the morning air, but neither affected where Cass chose to go. She didn't even care about any risk to herself at the point that she set off for the edge of the forest. Cass needed to be away from other people right now. She could see through breaks in the trees that the sunlight was unwavering. _So Pathetic Fallacy clearly doesn't apply_, she thought, once more remembering how half the things she'd learned in English class were useless.

She stopped Kaydin beside a large pine tree and dismounted. Cass sat down with her back to it and closed her eyes. Just when she thought that things were going so well; _so_ right, this happened. She couldn't fathom how this plot had managed to change _everything_ so quickly. But Cass would put a stop to it. She had to get things back on the right track. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she had no idea how long she sat with her back against the tree. It was only a falling pinecone that snapped Cass back to reality.

"Ouch," she said, opening her eyes and rubbing the spot where the pinecone had made contact with her head.

Cass picked up the pinecone and stood, walking over to where Kaydin had waited patiently. She put the pinecone in one of Kaydin's saddlebags, wanting to take it with her. It reminded her of her home in the 21st Century; of the pine tree in her back garden, the one she used to sit under and read on hot summer days. Another pinecone fell from the tree behind her, and Cass turned back to Kaydin.

"I guess that's a good enough signal that we should go back," she said quietly as she ran her hand through Kaydin's mane.

He didn't seem to mind. In fact, he didn't seem to mind anything she did- which she still found a little strange seeing as everyone kept telling her that Kaydin hated everyone. It didn't take Cass and Kaydin long to get back to the Fort. They had left quite visible tracks on their way through the forest, so Cass could easily see the path back. Cass stayed with Kaydin for a while back in the stables, after she'd unsaddled and brushed him.

When she left, the calmness she'd found with Kaydin, all but evaporated. Every stranger that she passed, she knew, could be involved in the plot against Arthur. _Stop it, Cass. You're just getting too paranoid now_, she thought, chastising herself. The tavern was not busy, but as people were awake and seemed to be moving around the Fort, there were a few inside, waiting for breakfast. Vanora was there and, to Cass' relief, she looked to be absolutely fine. There was something nagging at the back of Cass' mind that told her that she should stay with Vanora as much as possible, just in case. But another part that was warning her away.

Vanora smiled in greeting, and Cass smiled back, hoping that the older woman wouldn't notice its forced nature. Cass hated that she couldn't even manage to smile properly at Vanora, her friend. She sighed and began to help Vanora to serve the growing number of people at the tavern. That is, until the man she was about to ask what he wanted turned and grinned at her. Aldwyn.

"Cassandra! I didn't know you worked here," he said, surprised but clearly pleased.

"Turns out, I do," Cass replied after a while.

Aldwyn tilted his head as if trying to figure out her reaction. Cass was just hoping that he'd given up on whatever he'd been thinking when they'd first met. After all, she had told him that she was with someone. She hadn't mentioned Tristan's name though. _Perhaps I should tell him if he continues. I doubt that he'll try to go against _Tristan_. He'd have to be crazy to do that._

"Can I get you anything?" Cass asked, trying to keep conversation to what she _had_ to be there for.

"Why yes. Some fruit please; and some water," he added with a small smile.

Cass faked one in return and walked off to get what he'd asked for. She purposefully refrained from giving Aldwyn an apple with the fruit she'd put together for him. Apples were Tristan's in Cass' opinion- even if _she_ did _occasionally_ take one. She brought the fruit and a glass of water back to Aldwyn and placed them before him. Just as she turned to leave, he called her back.

"Cassandra, wait."

Cass turned back to face him, trying to hold back a sigh.

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry about the other day. I'm visiting my cousin here and I just saw you and... Well, anyway... I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, and I hope you don't mind but I would like to get to know you better."

Cass blinked and paused.

"As a friend, I mean."

She couldn't really think what to say. She was a little surprised, but at the same time almost a little happy. All Cass could think to do was nod. Aldwyn smiled as Cass turned away again; ready to get back to work. But at the bar, she stopped dead in her tracks. _ALDWYN, s_he thought. _Why didn't I think of it before? It seems a little odd that he turns up and then I get approached by those men. In fact, it was because of him that I ended up down that alley in the first place! And it explains why he wanted to walk me to the tavern when we first met. Being friends now would give them more knowledge as to where I am and what I'm thinking too._ Everything seemed to start fitting into place. Except for the fact that Aldwyn seemed so deceptively nice that she couldn't really see him plotting to kill anyone- let alone Arthur.

The rest of the day passed without much incidence, but incredibly slowly. And though Vanora said nothing, she did notice that Cass was more distant than usual. She could definitely tell that _something_ was wrong with Cass, but _what_ she didn't know. Vanora almost asked her about it, but Cass had left the tavern before she could.

Cass was tired, and she needed to sit down to clear her head. After she barricaded herself inside of her room and changed into the vest that she often slept in, Cass lay down on her bed in the darkness. Cass tried to figure out what she really knew, and what was just speculation. It turned out that everything she thought she knew _was_ really speculation, all that she _really_ knew was that there was a plot against Arthur and that at least two men were involved. _You are _so _in over your head_, she thought as her eyes started to close.

"Come home," she whispered to the darkness, just wishing that the Knights could hear her.

As she pushed her hand underneath her pillow to reach for her key ring, Cass found that her fingers grasped something else. A piece of paper. Cass frowned and opened her eyes. She lit the candle on her table and unfurled the paper in her hand. It was the picture she'd drawn of Kaydin, but it wasn't how she'd drawn it. Scrawled across the picture was a large, deep-red coloured cross.

Cass blinked. All that she could register was that something bad was going to happen to Kaydin. In the time it took for her to pull on some trousers and her boots, Cass had already decided that she _had_ to check on Kaydin. Her swords were strapped to her waist, and a final wisp of smoke rose from the just-extinguished candle, as Cass yanked the chair free of the door handle. She was outside and gone without even noticing that the key ring she'd gone to grasp was missing. Without even noticing what that might mean.

**Author's Note: So I hear you say, "So **_**this**_** is more regular updates?" Well, apparently, I just have to do the opposite of whatever I say that I'm going to do. I'm sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up; but I had a whole Drama issue, my exam's on Monday, blah blah blah, more useless excuses... :P**

**I LOVE English Class by the way, and I hated writing "how half the things she'd learned in English class were useless." bit. Just felt the need to say that. :P**


	41. Pancakes and Pinecones

There were few people about anymore, not that Cass would be able to tell through the dark night's sky. She pushed open the stables' door, and into the even darker adjoining room. Cass squinted to see, but she could faintly make out Kaydin's form in the shadows of his stall. She ran over to him and lit one of the candles on the wooden support pillars of the stable. She lifted it free of its holder and moved closer to Kaydin. She had to check that he was okay. And to Cass' relief, he was fine.

But that only confused her more. She couldn't figure out why they'd left her that message but then have done nothing. _Unless- _she thought. Her head whipped around and she stared around the dark stable. She could see nothing, but that didn't mean that she was alone.

"Hello?" she ventured, hoping that she her suspicion was wrong.

There was a long silence; one that made Cass almost hopeful.

"Figured it out, did you?" came the first sneering voice that she so well remembered.

Cass wanted to groan, but she held it in. She felt so stupid. _They tricked me into coming here_, she thought, angry at herself for falling so easily into the trap that they'd set for her.

"What do you want?" she said, trying to reinforce her voice with defiance.

"You already know what we want, love," the voice replied.

Cass waited for them to say more. The answer she had just been given, in her opinion, was not really an answer at all.

"So why am I here? Arthur's not even back yet, so what more could you have to try and blackmail me into?"

"More? Oh nothing; _yet_. You probably shouldn't be giving us ideas though."

Cass grimaced. _Yes, that would be a good idea, Cass_, she thought, feeling the need to smack her head against something very hard.

"We just wanted to make sure you knew not to pull another stunt like you did earlier today."

"Another stunt? I didn't even do anything!"

"So you and you're horse just disappear and that's nothing."

Cass was silent in response.

"When you go off on your little ride, shouldn't you be thinking about what _we_ could be doing to your little friends?"

She blinked, unable to think of an answer. Cass had no idea that her short ride had put Vanora and her children in danger, and she cursed herself for not taking that into consideration. But something nagged at the back of her mind about what he'd said; about the fact that she'd gone out for a ride. _Surely,_ she thought. _If they have as many people involved in this plot as they've been suggesting, then someone easily could have tracked me... And he keeps saying "we"; but I've only heard him speaking... Unless..._

"Guess you wouldn't want to risk _that_, would you darling?"

Cass paused, before slowly shaking her head.

"And if we even suspect that you're going to try sneaking out again, we can just put a stop to it like we showed in that little note that we left for you."

Cass shivered, knowing the consequence he meant. These plotters weren't really giving her any choice. It was either do as they said or her friends died. But she wondered if they could really think her so stupid as to not realise that it wouldn't just end with Arthur's death. That it would continue until they could no longer use her.

"Fine," Cass snapped at the shadows.

"Whatever."

"Good girl," the voice said mockingly in return.

"Now run along and get some sleep. We'll leave you another little... note, when we need you."

She couldn't help but notice how he'd used the word _"when"_, not _if_. _Does that mean they're already planning exactly _when_ they wanted to kill Arthur?_ Cass glanced at Kaydin; she didn't want to leave him but she didn't see how she could get away with staying. She knew that there would just be more threats, and they'd force her to leave anyway.

Cass knew that she'd have to make sure that they believed her to be compliant at least until Tristan returned. Cass sighed and dipped her hand into the saddlebag she'd left by the side of Kaydin's stall. She pulled free the pinecone that struck her on her ride.

"What's that that you've got there?" the voice asked.

She thought she heard something beyond mere curiosity in the question.

"A pinecone," Cass answered after a while, holding the pinecone into the light so it was clear to see.

She heard a clear, ridiculing laugh and then the question, "And what would a girl like you need a pinecone for?"

_Did he _really_ just ask me that?_

"I like pinecones," she replied slowly.

"You _are_ a strange one," the voice said, still sneeringly.

"Go on. Go back to your room before we think of something else for you to do."

Cass blinked; and with one last look at Kaydin, she left with candle in meant to go to her room, but she found herself walking over to the Wall and climbing the stone staircase. Cass made sure that she was away from anyone still awake, knowing that if the plotters suspected her of doing anything suspicious, that they would threaten Vanora and her children again.

Only, _if_ she kept pushing them to threaten her, sooner or later, what they did would stop being threats. She had to be careful. Even more careful than she'd originally planned on being. When she told Tristan, she'd have to be convincing enough to fool any plotter watching her. But she hated that that meant she had to be convincing enough to fool Tristan too.

Cass shook her head and eventually returned to her room. As she tugged her chair back into place, Cass felt a wave of tiredness wash over her. She removed her boots and trousers, placing them down on top of the chair, alongside her pinecone. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, with no time even to hope that she would be untroubled by her nightmares. Cass _was_ troubled by them, though she seemed locked in her sleep, unable to wake.

When she finally woke up the next day, Cass had no idea how late it was. Frankly, she was just glad that she had had some manner of sleep- no matter how troubled it was. But when she woke, her worries found her tenfold. She pushed herself out of bed, telling herself that she should go and help Vanora out in the tavern.

It took Cass twice as long as it usually did to dress, twice as long as it usually did to tie up the laces of her boots; and twice as long to belt her swords at her waist. There seemed to be something slowing her down, and she was almost certain that it was this plot hanging over her head.

As Cass was about to shift the chair from out from her doorway, she noticed the pinecone still on it. She picked it up, her slender fingers enclosing around its jutting edges. She thought that it felt nice to hold something that so reminded her of the 20th Century; but just as she'd had that thought, another snapped into Cass' mind. Something that she hadn't noticed until just then.

She walked over to her bed and lifted the pillow, finding nothing. Cass bit her lip; she could easily guess who had taken the key ring with the photograph of her family. A rush of anger flooded into her. _How _dare_ they take that?_ She could have hit something- or _someone-_ right then and there. Cass was so infuriated that they had taken her key ring that it took her a while to figure out that they might wonder what it was, or about the photograph inside it. They wouldn't even know _what_ the photograph was- and _that_ could be more dangerous in the long run.

Cass took a breath, trying to calm herself, though she only found herself getting increasingly worked up. She decided to leave her room and go to the tavern; she _had_ to distract herself. As Cass approached the tavern, she caught the aroma of a familiar smell. Intrigued, Cass walked over to where Vanora was stood to see what the woman was making.

"Are those... pancakes?" Cass asked, puzzled.

_Surely pancakes haven't been invented yet. Not _pancakes_?_ she thought. But she knew that there was no misplacing that smell.

Vanora looked at Cass a little confused, and answered, "They're called Tagenitai actually."

Cass blinked, but said nothing. _It must be an ancient version of pancakes_, Cass surmised. After a while, Cass spoke again.

"So... why is it that you're making... those things?"

Vanora looked up at Cass and gave a knowing smile.

"Really, Vanora... What's going on?"

"Well, I did suspect that since you woke up so late that you wouldn't know."

There was a long pause and Cass's brow furrowed.

"Know what?" she asked, finally.

"The Knights only have one year left in their contract from today."

Cass blinked. _Sure_, she thought. _Pancake-thingys would make sense if the Knights were here, but why is she making them when they're not. Shouldn't she wait until the Knights get back for that?_ Seeing the confusion still lingering in Cass' expression, Vanora elaborated.

"They got back about an hour ago."

"They did? Cass said quickly.

"And you let me ramble on about pancakes? Are they okay?"

Vanora smiled and nodded at the girl before her.

"I made Tristan promise not to wake you. Yesterday, you definitely looked like you needed some sleep."

Cass wanted to say that she wished Vanora had let him wake her up, but then she thought that she probably would have jumped out of her skin if Tristan had just appeared in her room. She knew that her first thought would probably have been that one of the plotters had come into her room. That was why Cass bit her tongue and didn't complain about Vanora's choice.

"Oh," Cass replied.

"Can I give you a hand?"

"Can you cook?"

"Er, no. But I can try," Cass answered, her cheeks going slightly red.

Vanora smiled and teasingly asked, "How in the world have you gotten through eighteen years of your life and not learned to cook?"

Cass' cheeks darkened and she paused before replying, "Well... Cooking isn't really as... essential... Oh, I don't know. It's just pathetic that I can't even make pancakes."

Vanora laughed and put a hand on Cass' shoulder.

"Come on, I'll show you."

The following hour was filled with a large number of failed attempts; and at the end of it, Cass appeared to have taken a shower in the flour that she had tried to put into the Tagenitai. Though at the end of it, Cass was proud of herself for having successfully made even just a few Tagenitai.

"Maybe you should go and wash off," Vanora suggested with a smile.

"You don't like my new ghost-like, flour look?" Cass answered, grinning.

"You don't look your best, I must say," Vanora answered, before shooing Cass off to clean herself up.

After washing, Cass changed into her black dress, glad to have the flour out of her hair. She went back to the tavern, hair still drying, hoping that the Knights would be there. Disappointment found her when they were not. Cass helped Vanora with the few people in the tavern. The Knights' return had seemed to help her forget about the plotters, and as she walked around the tavern, she felt better than she had for days.

Cass heard the Knights approach before she saw them. Bors was saying- or shouting- something in his loud, booming voice that Cass did not quite catch. She only heard that it ended with the word, "Vanora." Cass smiled and placed the jug in her hand on the bar top. She followed Vanora to the sounds of the Knights, and watched as the older woman met her partner with a familiar and passionate kiss. As the other Knights passed her, Cass smiled and exchanged greetings with them.

Tristan was the last to appear, and Cass couldn't help but grin as she saw him. As clichéd as it was, Cass knew that he was a sight for her sore eyes. When they reached each other, Cass threw her arms around him and held him there for as long as he allowed her. Tristan bent his head down to Cass, his lips capturing hers in a way that Cass had so missed.

When they parted, Cass whispered, "I'm glad you're back."

His right hand came up to her cheek, his eyes glinting their familiar glint. Cass smiled at him as she leaned into his touch. Tristan signalled for them to move to their seats at the corner table, and they walked together, his arm around her shoulder. They sat down next to each other, and Cass almost blushed at the fact that his arm stayed around her shoulder. It was more comforting to Cass than he knew. The day turned to night quite quickly, and Vanora made sure that the Knights got to eat the Tagenitais that she and Cass had made.

"I'll warn you though, Cass made some of these."

Cass blushed, knowing exactly which ones that she'd made. They had a distinctly crumpled look compared to Vanora's cooking.

"I'd avoid those four on the right if I were you," Cass suggested, trying to make light of her awful cooking.

Of course, as drink had been flowing quite freely at the corner table, Cass' suggestion was followed by Lancelot taking a bite from a Tagenitai that she had made. He wrapped his hands around his throat and made a choking sound; feigning that Cass' cooking had poisoned him.

"Oh, _very_ _funny_," Cass said sarcastically, as she tore off another piece and threw it at the now chuckling Knight.

Celebration seemed not to matter to the Knights as much as Cass thought it might; they seemed only to want to forget the fourteen years they had already served. Tristan carried on as normal, even down to cutting up and eating an apple. Cass leaned into Tristan's arm after that, trying to just relax amongst the group.

Her eyes were continuously drawn to Arthur though, and she couldn't help but wonder what would happen next. She wanted to talk to the Knights and reveal what she knew. But she couldn't. Cass realised then that she would have to tell Tristan that night- before things got any worse.

At the night's end, Tristan and Cass walked back to their rooms together. She couldn't help but feel so much safer than she had since he'd left. The only thing that worried her at that moment was telling Tristan. She sighed and leaned her head on Tristan's shoulder as they walked. She wondered if he could tell that there was something wrong with her. Tristan had said nothing of it if he did.

When they stood in the corridor that separated their rooms, they stopped. Cass looked into Tristan's eyes through the darkness and moved forward to kiss him. To her, everything felt better with Tristan with her. Eventually, Tristan pulled back from her, and he pressed one last small kiss to her forehead before disappearing into his room. Cass sighed and retreated to hers.

She removed her swords and put them in their place on the table; her boots followed. Cass didn't think that she could face telling Tristan now; but she would force herself to. Even if it meant that she'd hate herself for what she was about to do. Stepping barefoot back out into the corridor, Cass left her room. She took a deep breath as she stood outside of Tristan's room. Finally, she knocked. It was a moment before Tristan answered, opening his door. His usually blank face looked quite confused as he met Cass' gaze.

She took a moment before moving towards him, surprising him as her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him into a kiss. Tristan's lips moved against hers and he didn't question her, though he knew this was not like her. His hands moved to her waist, drawing her even closer to him. Cass' hands entwined in Tristan's tangled hair as their kiss deepened. They pulled away from each other, breathless; a moment that Cass used to push Tristan's door shut. His eyebrows rose as she moved back to him.

They kissed once more, with increasing passion filling their movements. Tristan wasn't quite sure what came over Cass so suddenly, but that something was affecting him too. Tristan's arms encircled Cass once more, and he lifted her from the ground. She let out a small sound into his mouth as he swept one hand under her legs and left the other to support her back. Tristan drew his lips back from her, almost as if he was trying to read something on Cass' blushing face. For her part, Cass was trying to keep herself under control and she found that her grip on the situation was fast leaving her hands.

"Tristan," she whispered, through her gasping breaths.

Tristan stared at her, pausing.

"Your curtains are open," Cass finished, with a small sort of sideways smile.

Tristan gave one in return, and, before moving off to draw them shut, he set Cass down on his bed. As soon as the curtains were closed though, and Tristan turned back to Cass, her entire demeanour had changed. She was sat upright on his bed, and she rested her head in her hands. Tristan frowned, confused by her actions.

"I'm so sorry, Tristan."

Tristan moved back over to Cass and crouched down beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She let out a long, deep breath before continuing. She felt absolutely awful. Not just because she had had to deceive Tristan; but because she hadn't known how hard it would be for her to stop what she'd started.

"Something happened after you left on your last mission."

Cass felt his hand tighten slightly on shoulder. She understood the worry in the gesture and elaborated quickly.

"It's nothing like... I- I didn't get hurt... It's just... Some people have been following me."

There was a long pause, before Tristan replied, "I know."

**Author's Note: I feel so mean recently about this plotline. :P Just a few things to say. :)**

**I'm writing a script for my A Level drama final exam at the moment, so I'm thinking chapters for "An Artist's Touch" will probably appear once a week for a while. Hope that's okay with everyone. :) My written Drama exam is over now though- if anyone's curious about it (though I don't know why you would be) just ask. :P**

**Erm, something I want to ask you guys... Is there anything you think I could improve on? Anything you'd like to see more of? Oh, and are you guys happy with how the chapters posted since the start of 2011 have gone? Because I've felt a little iffy about them. :/ Please do let me know, I'm always up for a bit of constructive criticism. :)**

**Oh, and oh yeah... Just to let you guys know, I can't write smut, so they'll be no detail if anything **_**does**_** happen anytime soon. ;)**

**And finally, the name for this chapter gets credit here because it came from something my friend Taryn and I misheard someone say. She heard pancakes and I heard pinecones. We never did find out what he said... :P**

**Kit xx**


	42. Long Silences And A Brand New Plan

Cass blinked.

"You... know?"

There was a silence between them whilst Cass stared at him perplexed.

"You _know?_" she asked again, both confused and surprised.

Eventually Tristan nodded, moving to sit at the foot of his bed, in front of Cass. He spoke slowly, as if he was almost angry.

"Do you remember the day that I took you out scouting?"

Cass took a moment and then nodded slowly. _Of_ _course I remember that day_, she thought, the faces of the two that she killed flashing through her mind.

"When I spoke to Arthur alone afterward, I was talking to him about them. I noticed one of them that morning. Arthur told me that I could do nothing; since they'd done nothing but watch. I told him again when I saw more, but his answer remained the same."

Cass noticed that Tristan did not look pleased as he spoke. But a thought hit her in that moment.

"Wait, did you actually see _them_? I mean, how many were there?"

Tristan frowned, a little confused at the urgency in her tone. He nodded though.

"Three," he said quietly.

"Three," Cass' brow furrowed as she repeated the word.

_Just three?_ she thought. _There _has _to be more than three of them, surely._

"What happened?" Tristan asked as he noticed the thoughtful expression on her face.

She paused, snapped back into the present. _Now's the time to tell him, Cass, _she thought as she bit her bottom lip.

"The day after you left... Two of them spoke to me... They've got this... this plan; and they tried to blackmail me into helping them."

Tristan waited patiently for her to continue, though he was _clearly_ paying attention.

"That's why I had to come here tonight like I did- because they were watching me; to make sure I didn't say anything. And I couldn't just come out and tell you because they... they threatened... _everyone_..."

Cass stopped talking once more, and Tristan took hold of her hand. He gave her palm a gently squeeze and she looked back at him.

Eyes narrowed, Tristan asked, "The plan?"

Cass took a deep breath and finally answered, "They... they want to kill Arthur."

Tristan stared at Cass blankly for a moment, thoughts ticking over in his mind.

"Did they say why?" he asked after a long while.

Cass thought back over the first time the voices approached her. It didn't take her long to find the memory. _"That half-Roman bastard thinks that he's in control. He thinks he's got everyone wrapped up in his ideals."_

"They said... because he thinks he's in control and has everyone wrapped up in his ideals. And they... don't like it," she finished lamely.

"And they haven't approached you beyond that first time?"

Cass took a breath before she spoke again, "Last night... The picture of Kaydin I drew... They went into my room and... drew a red cross over it... I had to see if he was okay, but one of them was there. I was told that I shouldn't go out riding again like I had earlier that day. And that they'd contact me again when they need me."

Cass stopped for a moment, before remembering that she had more to say, "They took my key ring too."

Tristan looked at her confusedly and Cass realised that she had never actually told Tristan about her key ring, or the photograph inside.

"It's... something that I brought with me from the 21st Century... It's got a picture of my parents in it... It's not something I think you'd usually find in this time."

Cass chewed on her lip as she waited for him to respond. And he was silent for a long time, as if allowing time for this information to sink in.

"We'll have to speak to the others," Tristan said eventually.

But Cass shook her head forcefully, and replied, "I can't. They'd know. I- I can't put people in danger like that- I took a huge risk telling you tonight, but I thought that I could trick them by making them believe that we were... _You'll_ have to tell the others... But you'll have to do it as if I've told you nothing."

Another long silence echoed between them. Eventually Tristan nodded. He'd used his time to come up with a way that he could talk to the Knights without making it obvious to those watching Cass. He explained his plan to her, and she listened intently.

"That's perfect," Cass said when he'd finished.

Thinking about it more closely, Cass couldn't think of a better way for Tristan to tell the others without things looking too suspicious. She gave him a smile and brought his hand up to her lips, placing a gentle kiss upon his knuckles. Cass' smile grew gradually as Tristan's hand slid from hers to caress her cheek. The moment left Cass wondering what would happen next. As much as she'd like to continue what she and Tristan had started before, Cass wasn't quite sure that she was ready for that. And as if sensing her hesitance, Tristan's hand pulled away from her and he stood.

He turned back to her, and eventually said, "You should stay here tonight."

Cass bit her lip subconsciously as she sat on the bed, next to its owner. She knew that the ruse she- _they- _had created, would be far more convincing if she stayed until the following morning. But she still wasn't sure what was going to happen next. Until she noticed Tristan start to move away to the corner of his room, toward the chair sat there. As he took a seat, Cass frowned and looked at him questioningly.

"I'll sleep here," he replied, answering her inquiring eyes.

Cass blinked. She felt extremely uncomfortable about taking Tristan's bed when she could just as easily sleep in the chair. _It _should_ be me that sleeps in the chair_, she thought.

"Tristan... I'm not- I'm not sleeping in your bed while you sleep in a chair. This is _your_ bed. _I'll _sleep in the chair."

Tristan simply shook his head and leant back into the chair. Cass opened her mouth to speak, but paused and let out a long breath. _Now's the time to be as stubborn as he is, Cass_, she thought to herself.

"Well... Then I'm not going to sleep, so you may as well have your bed back," Cass said, answering his nod by folding her arms obstinately.

A small smile took hold of Tristan's lips, and an amused glint lit up his deep, brown eyes.

"You can laugh, but if you're going to insist on sleeping in that chair, then there's _no_ way that I'm going to sleep."

The two began a staring match that, though determined, Cass was sure she wouldn't win. And she didn't. But she did succeed in getting him to stand up from his seat, a movement that drew a smug smile to her face. Tristan moved back to Cass until he stopped just beside her.

"I'm out of the chair. Now get some sleep," he said quietly.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no," she said quickly.

"_I'm_ sleeping in that chair."

"No, you're not," he replied with an amused edge to his voice.

"Yes. I am," Cass retorted, feeling all the more childish in her insistence.

"Sleep," Tristan said softly.

"Not until you agree to sleep in your _own_ bed."

Tristan stared at Cass through strands of his dark hair that had fallen before his eyes, still amused, but saying nothing. It was almost as if Tristan could sense Cass' unwavering stubbornness, and made the decision to abandon his own. Or at least, to compromise. He stepped around to the other side of his bed, Cass' eyes trailing him as he went. As he sat down on the side of the bed unoccupied by Cass, her smug grin broadened.

"Good," Cass smiled.

She started to push herself from the bed, but her hand was caught in Tristan's grip. Cass turned back to him, her eyes almost asking for an explanation that only his eyes would give her.

"So basically, neither of us wants the other to have to sleep in that chair?"

He nodded, and pulled Cass back down to where she sat on the bed. The two sat together like that for a while, eventually lying down next to each other as neither wanted to continue their stubborn argument. Cass didn't even notice herself drifting into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Cass opened her eyes in the morning, and found that her head was resting on Tristan's shoulder, one arm draped across his chest. The flutter of her eyelashes and the small intake of breath seemed to wake Tristan- who remained ever the light sleeper. Cass blinked, and was about to move back from Tristan, unsure of what point in the previous night that she had moved into that position.

But Tristan's hand came up to rest with the one of hers on his chest and Cass finally realised how comfortable she actually was. She didn't really _want _to move anymore. Tristan's other hand stayed where it was, but his fingers lightly curled themselves in her hair. Cass let out a small sigh and eventually pushed herself off him to lean on her elbows. His head turned in her direction as his eyes followed her. And Cass didn't even notice herself blushing.

"I should probably get changed," Cass said after a while.

Tristan nodded and sat up in the bed.

"I should head out."

Cass rolled out of bed slowly, suddenly quite aware of the state her hair always looked after sleeping. She attempted to smooth her hair, just hoping that Tristan wouldn't notice the mess her curls currently were. She looked back to Tristan when she was satisfied that she'd calmed the frizz, but found herself turning back almost immediately with a blush staining her cheeks. But not before her eyes caught sight of Tristan's bare chest as he changed from the shirt he was wearing to a clean one. The blush on her cheeks refused to fade, so Cass headed for the door.

As her hand reached for the door knob, she turned back and with a smile said, "Thank you for letting me stay."

A now fully-clothed Tristan moved towards her then, taking her hands and placing a kiss to her forehead.

"Any time," he said softly.

Cass smiled affectionately at Tristan as he drew back from her, and she took the motion as a cue to take her leave from his room. She regretted not waiting a little longer as soon as she closed the door behind her and looked up to see a familiar, smirking face before her. Lancelot. Cass opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again when she realised that nothing she could say would make the situation any better. Her slight bed-head, bare feet and yesterday's clothes were damning evidence in themselves. Lancelot merely looked at her, his smirk growing.

"Never will you get to complain about my bedroom antics again," he said with a raised eyebrow.

Cass blushed, but replied curtly, "It's hardly my fault that we met in a corridor, I'm hardly bragging about anything."

"You might not be, but I'm still telling _everyone_," Lancelot grinned as he made for the door.

He was gone before Cass could even grimace. She stood outside Tristan's door for a moment, horrified, and staring in the direction that Lancelot had left. Cass eventually forced herself to go back to her room and to change her clothes. She knew that she'd now have to face whatever embarrassment that the others could foist upon her. But it took her quite a while to see the benefit of bumping into Lancelot when she had.

It was as she was walking to the tavern that the thought hit her that if Lancelot was telling everyone, and if she acted as embarrassed as she felt, the lie she and Tristan had woven would seem even more believable. Lancelot would unknowingly be elaborating on their lie. All now would simply depend on her reaction when she met the others in the tavern.

As soon as Cass saw the Knights seated around the corner table, she could tell that Lancelot had told them of their meeting. Cass took her usual seat and felt her cheeks already begin to heat up. She risked glancing up from the table and found herself looking into the smirking stares of those around her. Cass' face was completely red by the time someone spoke.

"So..." she heard Gawain's voice say.

"Have a good night last night?"

Cass rolled her eyes at him and the laughter that his question had created, before looking back down at the table. She merely waited for the next comment to come and found that it was Galahad who was next to chip in.

"Yes Cass, Lancelot tells us that you emerged this morning looking thoroughly dishevelled."

"-And I'm pretty sure she didn't get stuck out into the wind," Lancelot interjected with his trademark smirk.

_That's it_, Cass thought, feeling the need to smack her head repeatedly on the hard surface before her. She had enough before they could even really get started. Instead of listening to them poke fun at her and Tristan, Cass flashed a sarcastic smile and walked over to where Vanora was grinning at her from beside the bar. She wondered if Lancelot had spread the word enough to have reached Vanora. Cass hoped not. Just in case though, Cass thought that if she began with another topic, perhaps she could distract her friend.

"Morning Vanora," Cass said.

"So did you tell Bors yet?"

Vanora nodded and continued to grin at the younger woman.

"And? How did he react?"

"Oh, _you know Bors_," Vanora replied with a knowing smile.

Cass was almost sure that she didn't want Vanora to elaborate in what had happened after she'd told Bors, but she thought it nice that Vanora seemed happy about it.

"And what about you, hey?"

_Oh crap. She knows,_ Cass thought, taking a deep breath.

"I hear you and Tristan-"

"Vanora, I-" Cass began, not sure where to take her sentence next.

_To lie or not to lie? _Cass wondered, thinking quickly. _You _have_ to lie; for her safety. For everyone's._

"Well, did you?"

Cass felt her cheeks heat up once more as she fought to find an answer.

"Vanora, you know I- I can't- I'm awful at talking about this... sort of thing..." Cass mumbled.

Vanora opened her smiling mouth to speak, but held back as she watched something behind Cass. Cass turned and saw what Vanora was seeing; Tristan had appeared at the corner table, and everyone's face had turned serious. The Knights stood and gradually fed off, following Tristan to the room with the Round Table.

"I wonder what that's about," Vanora asked wonderingly.

"Perhaps Tristan found something when he was out scouting," Cass answered with a frown.

But inwardly, she was smiling. Because she knew better. She knew what was really going on.


	43. Risks

Tristan walked quickly, ahead of the others by a few paces. They had no idea what he had called them together for. All they knew was what he'd told them; that he'd seen something when he was out scouting. A lie, of course. But that was all part of the plan that he and Cass had decided on.

It wasn't too long until the group were seated around the round table and each of the Knights was staring questioningly up at Tristan. But before Tristan would say a word, he made sure that the door was firmly closed, allowing him to reveal what he knew without putting anyone in danger. He hoped. Arthur spoke before Tristan could though, as he sat wondering at Tristan's actions.

"Tristan, if you would, please explain what you saw this morning."

Tristan took a breath as he stood in front of his chair, hands gripping its back.

"I saw nothing scouting-"

"Then why the hell are we here?" Lancelot asked grumpily.

When Tristan called them away, Lancelot had, as usual, been in the process of wooing a woman and was thoroughly unimpressed that there was seemingly no reason for him to have been interrupted. A look from the scout silenced him though.

"Cass has informed me of a plot against Arthur."

The expression on each man's face darkened. And Tristan didn't wait for the others to question him further before continuing. He reiterated all that Cass had told him while the others listened intently and concluded with what he had seen of the men following her.

"I even saw one of them this morning," Tristan finished, disgusted as he remembered the man he'd seen following Cass earlier that day.

The room was silence broken only by the scraping of Tristan's chair as he pulled it out and took a seat. The usually quiet Dagonet was the first voice to breach the stillness that had overrun the room.

"The question is; what do we do now?"

"Why don't we take one of the ones following Cass?" Galahad suggested.

Arthur merely shook his head and answered, "We don't know how many of them we're dealing with, so we can't afford to risk taking one following Cass in case they decide to act on one of their threats."

"Arthur's right," Bors added.

_ Of course Bors would agree_, Tristan thought. _His bastard children would be the easiest targets for their retribution_.

"I still don't understand why they would get Cass involved at all? Surely they'd know the risk that she might tell one of us?" Galahad put in.

"And she _did_ manage to tell us. It was a _very_ convincing facade that you came up the by the way," Lancelot added with a smirk.

Tristan's answer was an expressionless stare. He would have deemed Lancelot's comment inappropriate at any other time, but as it had been he and Cass' intention to weave such a lie, Tristan was almost grateful that it had been so easily bought.

"She's not been here long but she's close to us; if they thought that they could convince her, she would be an easy way to get to Arthur," Gawain suggested.

"And she would be, if she wasn't so loyal to us," Lancelot said quietly.

"The question remains though; what _is_ it that we do next?"

Arthur listened to the Knights discuss the problem further, but stayed silent himself. He had found only one solution to this problem that put the least amount of people in danger; one way that would put only one person in danger. Tristan would not be happy. Arthur sighed, and stood. All eyes fell upon him as he prepared to speak.

"I think that, fornow, the best thing that we can do is to continue with the way things are at the moment-"

Arthur hadn't finished before Tristan was on his feet.

"No," he said.

"It's too dangerous."

Arthur sighed. He had guessed that the scout would react in such a way.

"This will only be _for now_; until we have more information."

"No."

"Tristan."

There was a heavy tone in Arthur's voice that no matter how much he wanted to, Tristan could not ignore.

"If she gets hurt-" Tristan began warningly

"She won't. They need her. They won't risk doing anything that will compromise them," Lancelot chipped in.

Tristan was silent, but he shifted his expression to the blank mask the others were so used to seeing. Beneath the mask though, Tristan was seething. _This is not right. How can that decision be made without Cass?_ he thought angrily.

"Wait a second, Arthur," Gawain said, frowning slightly.

"We can't just tell Cass to continue like this. Shouldn't we at least ask her before we come to any conclusions?"

Tristan wanted to smile at the long-haired Knight for articulating what he couldn't; but his anger at what was being asked of Cass still remained dominant over any other emotion. Arthur knew that he would have concede to Gawain's argument; he chastised himself for looking past Cass' thoughts, but so far, he had been unable to see an alternative to carrying on as she was now. He would just have to hope that Cass would agree to this plan.

"You're right. Tristan; it will have to be you that talks to her. You're the only one who can speak with her alone and in private without raising suspicion."

The scout nodded once, still not pleased that he would have to ask of Cass something that he was not comfortable with her doing.

"Now that that is decided, we must continue with the ruse that allowed us to convene," Arthur began.

"Tristan, you and Dagonet will head out as if checking on what you supposedly saw today and return tomorrow reporting that you were simply over-cautious and that it was nothing."

Tristan stared at his commander for a moment before nodding again and turning to Dagonet.

"I'll meet you in the stables in two hours," he said bluntly before leaving the room.

He had not known what to expect of the meeting he'd just left, but he wasn't happy with the result he'd been given. Not only had Arthur practically ordered him to convince Cass to continue pretending that she would follow the plotters' orders, but now he had to leave Cass alone for what he saw as an unnecessary reason. In his opinion, he could just as easily convince them and return before nightfall. Tristan kept this all to himself though as he walked quickly to the tavern.

He found Cass carrying a stack of dirty plates toward the bar top. She looked as if she'd taken hold of a few too many plates and could, at any second, drop them crashing to the ground. Tristan almost made it to her to offer her his assistance, but she reached the bar top without breaking anything before he could. If she hadn't deposited the plates before turning and jumping at the sight of Tristan, Cass was absolutely sure that she would have dropped them. She smiled, but when she caught his masked expression, her smile vanished.

"Tristan?" Cass asked, her hand reaching out to gently press against his arm.

"I saw something when scouting this morning. Dagonet and I are heading out to investigate."

He wanted to continue, but he knew that he couldn't in such a public place. He hoped that Cass would understand that he couldn't speak to her in the tavern, and that they needed to go somewhere private for him to reveal what the Knights had had to say. Tristan placed a small kiss between the frown lines that were forming between her creasing brows, and turned, immediately walking in the direction of his room.

"Wait!" Tristan heard Cass' voice call him from behind.

He didn't wait though. And he kept walking at a fast pace until he reached the building that housed their rooms, leaving Cass to rush to catch up with him.

"Tristan, hang on a second," Cass said, a little out of breath as she finally reached him.

"You can't... You can't just leave again- you only just got back... I mean- can't someone else-?"

Tristan shook his head and replied, "It has to be me."

Cass let out a ragged breath and eventually said, "I don't want you to leave."

For a moment, Tristan had no response. He paused before reaching his hand out for hers and pulling her inside the building and then his room. As soon as his door closed, and Cass had seen that his curtains were still pulled tightly closed, Cass' face became even more serious. She desperately wanted to know what the Knights had said to the news they had given them, but she waited patiently for Tristan to speak.

"Arthur... wants me to ask you to continue pretending to follow the plan against him."

Cass blinked. She could tell from the tone of his voice that Tristan was not totally in agreement with Arthur's decision.

"C-continue?"

Tristan nodded.

"But... what if..."

She stopped herself from finishing her sentence. _There are a million what ifs, Cass. You've got to be strong,_ Cass thought, suddenly feeling the need to prove herself.

"Erm... well... I suppose... Yes. If that's what you decided is best..." Cass said slowly.

Sensing some reluctance, and out of his own surprise, Tristan replied, "I didn't decide that. I don't want you in danger."

Cass felt her heart lurch. His over-protective nature for once made her feel strangely comforted.

"But right now... It is the only thing that it makes sense to do."

She nodded, seeing that he was most likely right. _It's not like you've come up with anything better anyway,_ she thought to herself as she tried to morph her face into an unreadable mask like Tristan did. Cass found now that she was extremely poor at mimicking the Knight.

"So you... you have to leave now then?" she asked quietly, taking Tristan's hands and rubbing her thumbs softly over his palms.

He sighed and bent his head to her so that his lips brushed her ear as he replied, "Soon."

Tristan placed a kiss just under her ear and two more just below her jaw line. They were only soft touches, but each earned a small gasp from the woman they were placed upon. Cass, with cheeks already darkening in colour, turned her head toward his and let their lips converge in equally gentle movement. She smiled into his kiss, savouring the moment as it lasted.

It was lucky that she had, for it was the last kiss they shared before Tristan and Dagonet left on their pretend investigation. Cass watched from the wall as the rode out, a slight sadness lingering in her eyes. She headed to the tavern, ready to resume the idea that she developed a long while ago, but had of late abandoned; that work could distract her from her problems.

It would have been the perfect solution had the remaining Knights not been sat at their usual table, just beginning their latest drinking session. _It's so odd to see the table without all of the Knights_, she thought, sighing to herself. Cass worked until there were fewer people in the tavern; until she was sure that Vanora could handle those left- which for her would be incredibly easy as the majority of the remaining group of customers were, in fact, the Knights. As she bade the Knights goodnight with a farewell and a smile, Lancelot stopped her.

"Would you like me to escort you to your room?" he asked, and though there was a smirk on his face, there was a note of seriousness in his voice.

Cass' smile faltered a little as she stared at the Knight. She tried to cover up the tone of his voice by brushing his hand away lightly.

"Honestly Lancelot. The moment Tristan's away and you're back to your old ways," she tutted, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Besides, I thought we'd discussed you not talking to me like that."

Lancelot caught the gist of what she was trying to tell him and answered by leaning back in his chair and shrugging.

"It was worth a try."

Cass smiled and shook her head.

"Goodnight, Lancelot."

Cass walked away from the tavern in the darkness, the ghost of a smile still playing on her lips. She wished that she could have accepted Lancelot's offer to walk her back to her room; but she knew that she couldn't. She was still so nervous that the plotters might suspect her of telling Tristan the previous night. Cass just hoped that their ruse had been convincing enough. She would find out if they approached her on her way home. That was the real reason that she had denied Lancelot's offer to escort her home. She wanted to find out if they suspected her or not.

As she closed the door to her room, Cass was genuinely surprised that the plotters had made no appearance. _Does that mean that they believe that I've said nothing?_ she found herself thinking, almost hopefully. Cass yanked off her dress and pulled on the vest that she usually slept in. When she pulled a blanket over herself and lay back in her bed, Cass found herself remembering how, only that morning, she had woken in Tristan's arms. She hadn't realised what a pleasant comfort it had been- in more ways than one.

Eventually her eyes closed, and Cass was gripped immediately in sleep's grasp. Sleep may have found her easily, but her mind was filled with familiar nightmares. And one that was not but could not be fully realised.

_Dagonet_.

_A deep breath as he put down his sword. A battle cry as he picked up his axe. Running. The clang of metal on ice. The shouts of a man not so far off, yelling "Kill him!" over and over. The thunder of breaking ice. The arrows that hit him, though he continued to strike. The moment Dagonet fell through the ice with one last uneven breath._

_Tristan_.

_The way he moved, eyes fixed on his enemy. He pushed off his helmet, letting it fall to the floor. His first strike, smooth, as he fought the man before him. A hidden knife slicing his chest. A breath taken as he felt the blood. The fight continued until the knife struck again, first the blade to his leg, then the handle to his head._

_ His sword still raised as he fought to stand. A strike that made him drop it. His opponent kicking it back to him. His last attempt before he was knocked down; his breathing rough, near coughing with blood. The man's face as he picked up Tristan's sword and then Tristan, by the hair. The knife in Tristan's arm removed and plunged in to the man's leg. The sword entering Tristan's side._ _A hawk circling in the smoky sky above him. The final blow of a sword slashing his body. Blood spraying like rain drops to stain the earth. The light leaving Tristan's eyes as he smiled into death._

_Arthur_.

But before she could even fully understand what was happening in the last part of her nightmare, Cass was shaken awake. Her eyes snapped open to meet the brown eyes of someone she knew. It took her a second to place them; to realise that this was not just the beginning of another nightmare.

"Cass, are you alright?" Lancelot said, worry edging the fringes of his voice.

Cass blinked and sat up in her bed. She didn't understand why he was asking if she was okay, or even why he was in her room. But she nodded to him anyway, a frown creasing her brow.

"Nightmares," she answered quietly as she rubbed her eyes.

She couldn't help but notice the wetness she found as she did. She'd been crying in her sleep again.

"Nightmares?" Lancelot questioned, looking slightly taken aback.

"How bad do your nightmares have to be so that you're crying and screaming so loudly that I can hear you from the corridor?"

Cass opened her mouth to respond, but bit her lip at the revelation of her screams.

Eventually she quietly replied, "They're... bad nightmares. But... I have them all the time..."

"I've never heard you before tonight," Lancelot said sceptically.

Cass looked away from him as she answered, "I usually only have them when you're all on a mission... I didn't think I would have them with just Dagonet and Tristan away... They're not even really in danger either... But I guess I did..."

Lancelot frowned.

After a while he asked, "What are these nightmares about, Cass?"

Cass' eyes met his again as she replied, most emphatically, "I can't tell you that Lancelot."

There was a long pause before she added, "They have nothing to do with the... present situation..."

Lancelot still did not seem happy, but he nodded anyway.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he pushed.

"I'm fine. It's not as bad as you think. They're just... nightmares," she tried to say dismissively.

He didn't look convinced.

"Honestly, I'm _fine_. I'll be alright."

"If you're sure..." Lancelot said.

He walked to the door and looked back to the small woman in her bed.

"You know where I am if you need me."

Cass nodded and gave Lancelot what he could tell was a forced smile. He left Cass to sleep, but wasn't happy about it. The screams he'd heard were not a normal sound. They were disturbing; as if someone or something had been causing Cass real pain. Lancelot hadn't said it, but he had a suspicion that her nightmares were about something more serious than she was letting on.

As he entered his own room, he couldn't help but think that Cass seemed to have a certain knack for attracting misfortune and trouble.


	44. Something Wrong

The next morning, Cass opened her eyes to find that she was still tired. She'd been disturbed all night by her reoccurring nightmares, and what was worse, was the fact that now Lancelot knew she was having them. Cass made a mental reminder to ask him not to mention them to Tristan or any of the others. The fewer people who knew about her nightmares, the fewer questions would be asked about them. And _that_ would be better for everyone. She'd done enough changing the past with her simple appearance in this time; she wasn't about to have to explain that her plan was to meddle with events and save the three doomed Knights. She couldn't let them know that they were supposed to die. It would change too much.

Cass yawned and sat up slowly. Smoothing her hair down, she forced herself out of bed, the wooden floor feeling cool against her bare feet. Cass dressed herself slowly, pulling on her red dress followed by her shoes and eventually her cloak. She strapped her swords about her waist in her usual morning ritual, and left her room; but she paused in the corridor. Cass almost considered knocking on Lancelot's door, but the sound of soft snores that she heard from beside his door made her change her mind and instead, she chose to head to the tavern. She could talk to Lancelot sometime later and avoid feeling bad for waking the Knight.

As she stepped outside, Cass was glad that she'd decided to wear her cloak. The cold morning air swirled around her, and Cass pulled her cloak closer to herself, trying to insulate whatever warmth she had. It didn't take her long to reach the tavern, but she stopped as figure all but walked into her. _This is _not _what I need_, Cass thought as she tried to move out of Aldwyn's path. He stopped when he saw her though.

"Cassandra. It's nice to see you."

Cass gave a small smile back at him; still sure that thus far she'd been unable to pass off a totally convincing smile towards him.

"How've you been?" he asked, seemingly not noticing the falseness in her smile.

Cass' forced smile faltered a little at the question.

"I've been better," she answered quickly.

"How about you?"

"I'm getting increasingly better as the morning progresses it seems... But anyway, what's wrong?"

Cass paused before answering. Even though the last time they'd met, Aldwyn had said he just wanted to be friends with her; Cass couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable at the implication of his answer. But if her suspicions about Aldwyn were correct, she knew that feeding him the information that she and the Knights wanted the plotters to think was correct couldn't hurt.

"Tristan and Dagonet are out investigating something Tristan saw," she said with a frown.

It was Aldwyn's turn to frown, and for a moment, Cass couldn't understand why.

"You're friends with the Knights?"

Cass blinked. She had forgotten that she'd never said anything to Aldwyn about the Knights. _But that makes no sense; if he was one of the plotters, he would already know that. Two can play at this game,_ she thought, as she bit back the frown that threatened to reappear.

"Erm, yes... That's probably an understatement really.

"How so?"

"I guess that they're like my family."

"You're related to one of them?" Aldwyn asked, confusion registering clearly on his face.

Cass blushed though she wasn't sure why and answered, "No. It's just that... When I came to this Fort, they took me in. And, on top of that; Tristan and I are..."

She blushed again as she continued, "together."

There was a long silence before Aldwyn replied. Cass was used to long silences after spending so much time with Tristan, but this wasn't like the silences that filled _their_ time. This silence was more than awkward. But Aldwyn's response broke the quiet in a way that Cass had not been expecting.

"Well, I must say that I'm quite glad you warned me off so quickly then; I don't much fancy trying to explain myself to him," Aldwyn answered with a small smile.

Cass stared at him blankly for a moment, before letting a real smile replace the fake one.

"Yes. It's probably good that it didn't come to that," Cass agreed.

Aldwyn looked as if he was about to speak again, but something seemed to change his mind for him. Cass followed his eyes to behind her and turned, only to find Lancelot.

"Morning, Lancelot... Have you two met, by the way?" she added, trying to smooth out the awkward tension that seemed to invade the atmosphere due to the strange look on the Knight's face.

"We haven't actually," Aldwyn answered, trying to maintain the pleasant tone that he spoke to Cass with.

"I'm Aldwyn."

"Lancelot," the Knight replied, nodding once to the man before him.

"My apologies for interrupting, but I was on my way to get some breakfast, and I wondered if you cared to join me," he said, speaking directly to Cass.

Cass blinked.

"Oh; yes, sure, I'd love to. You go ahead, I'll only be second," she answered with a smile.

Lancelot nodded and reluctantly moved past Cass and the man.

"Sorry about that," Cass said quietly to Aldwyn.

"They're all just a little protective over me."

"A _little_?" Aldwyn replied with a small smile.

She smiled apologetically back to him and shrugged.

"I'd better go before he comes back looking for me," Cass joked.

"It was nice talking to you," she added before walking past the man.

She didn't turn back. If she had, she would have seen him watching her leave. Cass smiled to Lancelot and the others as she reached the corner table and took her usual seat. Lancelot seemed to wait until all the other Knights had returned to their conversations before turning to Cass.

Under his breath he said, "Aldwyn?"

Cass sighed and shrugged.

"Formerly an _overly_-friendly man. Now; apparently _just_ friendly," she said, trying to simply explain what she thought Aldwyn was.

"I don't know though," she added in a whisper, hoping that he understood that she was unsure of whether Aldwyn was one of those involved in the plot against Arthur or not.

Lancelot slowly nodded, but said no more on the subject. She was almost sure that he would mention it to the other Knights. _Probably when Tristan and Dagonet return_, she thought. As the group ate, Cass said next to nothing. Not because there was something playing on her mind- which there always seemed to be- but just because she didn't feel like speaking. She found that times like those often went by with fewer "Are you alright"s when Tristan was there, but after she'd convinced the others that she was fine, Cass sat in relative peace, just listening to everyone else's conversations.

At one point though, when Lancelot had stopped speaking, she quietly asked him not to mention her nightmares. He looked reluctantly at her for a moment, but agreed when he remembered how insistent she had been in not telling him what they were about. Lancelot wanted to ask her about them, but decided, at least, now was not the time to do it.

After breakfast, the Knights decided to head out and train. They asked Cass to join them, but she declined, surmising that the plotters would see her training as an attempt to reveal their plan to the Knights. As she watched them leave the tavern, Cass couldn't help but think that her training was seriously going to suffer as a result of this plot. And that would make her less helpful in any eventuality. She sighed and began clearing the plates from the corner table.

The day passed quickly for Cass, tempered only by her wondering of when Tristan and Dagonet would return. It took until the night started to close in, darkening the sky, for Cass to begin truly worrying. _They were only supposed to be gone for half the morning. They were only supposed to be pretending to check something_, she thought. _Shouldn't they be back by now?_ It wasn't long until Arthur and the others came to the tavern, and Cass was straight over to them. She waited until they were sat down before she questioned them.

"Are they back yet?"

Arthur shook his head and Cass frowned.

"But I thought that they were just supposed to be investigating something. Shouldn't they be back by now?"

Cass saw Arthur and Lancelot exchange a grim look before he answered.

"They should be," Arthur confirmed.

"If they're not back by morning, we'll go after them."

"M-morning...? You're going to wait until _morning_?"

"Relax, Cass," Gawain chipped in.

"_Relax_?" Cass said, unsure of what was going on.

_Why aren't they going out after them? _Cass thought as she tried to understand why they didn't seem as worried as she was.

"They're used to looking after themselves. They'll be alright," was Arthur's simple response.

"Besides," Bors interjected.

"Lancelot isn't as good at tracking as Tristan. I'd say we stand more of a chance of finding Arthur's Pope than Tristan and Dagonet in the dark."

Lancelot feigned hurt, but conceded that Bors was right. He knew that his tracking skills were a poor trade off for the silent scout's. Cass opened her mouth to speak, but realised that they were right. She gave the group a short nod and tried to focus her mind back on work. It wasn't as easy as she thought it would be- and she hadn't thought it would be an easy task at all.

Something just tugged at the back of her mind telling her that because Tristan and Dagonet weren't back yet, something was definitely wrong. The night progressed in much the same way until Cass couldn't really stand it anymore. She said goodbye to Vanora and the others and left for her room, only to find Lancelot coming up behind her. Cass smiled and waited for him.

"They'll be fine you know," he said as they started walking back to their rooms together.

Cass gave him a sideways look that told him she wasn't too sure.

"Arthur's right; they can look after themselves. They've survived over fourteen years fighting on this island, what's one more night?"

She could tell that he was just trying to lighten the mood. Both of them knew exactly what one night could mean but were unwilling to say it aloud. Cass let out a long sigh as her expression turned back into a brow-creasing frown.

"Are you like this every time we go on a mission?" he asked jokingly with a small smile.

"Like what?"

"Nightmares, moody frowns and depressed sighs?"

"Pretty much," she replied, trying to mimic his expression, but failing miserably.

"Poor Vanora," he answered, elbowing her playfully.

She did smile that time, but only fleetingly. For his part, Lancelot seemed pleased enough that he'd managed to pull that emotion free of her seemingly depressed state of mind. They parted ways and turned to their respective rooms. Cass knew already that her sleep would be even more plagued by nightmares than the previous night, and almost dreaded trying to sleep. But she couldn't stand staying up and worrying, so eventually decided that the nightmares preferable. No matter how much they hurt her to have to watch, they were better than the scenarios that her over-active imagination was coming up with.

A knock woke her, as she was used to. And as she opened her eyes, she once again felt tired as the nightmares had kept her constantly in and out of sleep. Her curtains were closed, so she did not notice that the sky outside was still as dark as midnight. She did not think anything more of it than a normal knock at her door as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Hello?" she asked to the closed door.

"Cass? Can I come in?" Lancelot's voice came back.

Cass frowned. There was something in the tone of his voice that caused her to pause, and she didn't know what it was.

"Yeah, sure," she answered, still frowning.

Lancelot poked his head through her door almost as soon as she'd acknowledged him. If she had been a little more awake, and her eyes a little more focussed, Cass might have noticed the odd expression on his face.

"Cass... You have to get dressed and come with me."

Cass was confused.

Not understanding what was happening, she looked at him for a moment, before asking, "What's wrong?"

He didn't say anything for a moment, but instead moved into her room and picked up her training trousers from where they lay over the back of her chair. He tossed them to her and she caught them clumsily. Still confused, she pulled her trousers on, and then shoved her feet into her boots.

"Alright, I'm dressed. What's going on?"

"Tristan and Dagonet are back," he answered finally in a low voice.

Cass froze.

"W-what's happened?"

Lancelot said nothing, but he took hold of Cass' arm and pulled her out of her room.

"Dagonet will explain."

Cass stopped; Lancelot's hand on her arm pulling slightly. He turned back to look at her and saw the pained look in her wide eyes.

"Lancelot. Wait. Tell me what's going on." she said, her voice wavering with worry.

Lancelot didn't say anything once more. A shadow of something passed over his face as Cass stared at him, waiting for an answer. Her heart was racing. So was her mind. All signs pointed to something bad having happened when Dagonet and Tristan were out on their mission. And Lancelot just wasn't telling her what it was. _What isn't he telling me?_ Cass thought as a silence voided between them, making seconds feel like hours.

"Dagonet will explain," he repeated, pulling a wide-eyed Cass along after him again.

**Author's Note: Sorry for the longer wait for this chapter. I had a whole plot shuffle thing going on, but I've pretty much sorted it out now... Sort of. Anyway, I hope you guys are still enjoying the story, even **_**with**_** the weekly wait for chapters.**

**Kit xx**


	45. Hurt

As Lancelot pulled her through the dark, winding streets, Cass' heart was in her throat. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. Something was wrong with Tristan and Lancelot wouldn't tell her what it was. _He can't be..._ Cass didn't even want to think the word. _Lancelot would have told me. He _would_ have. _But since Cass didn't know where Lancelot was taking her, she could only follow on in terrified ignorance.

The building they entered was relatively large and separated into smaller rooms, one of which Lancelot pulled Cass into. The sight she was met with inside was as if it had leapt free of one of her nightmares; only this was a thousand times worse because it was real.

Lit by the flicker of two candles, Dagonet was sat on a bed in the far corner of the room. He seemed to be in relative health apart from one large gash on his newly-bandaged arm. His eyes met Lancelot's as the two entered the room and they shared a dark look. But it wasn't Dagonet that Cass was looking at. Cass was looking at the unconscious figure of the man that she knew so well; the unconscious figure of the man that she loved so much.

Cass was by Tristan's side before Lancelot could hold her back, tears welling in her eyes. She looked down at the man on the small, rigid bed before her, her tear-filled eyes seeking what his ailment was. It wasn't hard to locate. With no shirt on, Cass could see the bandage wrapped around his chest. And chillingly, it was covering the same place that she'd seen the sword enter his side so many times in her nightmares. Cass had never wanted to see Tristan like this. And she never wanted to see him like this again. But she didn't even know if she'd get the chance now.

Apart from the obvious large bandage, there was another on his shoulder, and a clearly just-stitched wound on his temple. Tristan's breathing was heavy and deep, almost like he was sleeping; but Cass knew that his sleep probably wasn't as peaceful as it seemed. His wounds were probably causing him an awful amount of pain, and if he wasn't unconscious, she was sure that he'd be feeling it. For that, at least, she was glad that Tristan was unconscious.

"What... What happened...?" Cass asked in a pained whisper to Dagonet.

She didn't look up from Tristan as she spoke, but just waited for Dagonet to speak. The quiet Knight let out a long sigh and looked back over to Lancelot, who was now leaning against the closed door. It wasn't long before he started explaining though.

"We were on our way back when Tristan saw some suspicious tracks. He said that they weren't typical Woad tracks, so we followed them into a cluster of trees. We were ambushed. It was odd, because they came from a completely different direction to the tracks though. They overwhelmed us in the beginning, but eventually they ran. I didn't know until after they'd fled that Tristan had even been hurt, he hid it so well and fought on anyway."

Dagonet stopped at the sight of the pain creasing Cass' features. There were tears dripping down her face but she seemed barely to notice them as she stared at the injured Knight. Dagonet noticed the tears though, and he could see in them exactly how much she loved Tristan.

"He's been doing well since we got back here and bandaged his wounds. I'm just here to make sure that his fever stays down."

"He's got a fever?" Cass asked quietly, her frown growing deeper.

Dagonet nodded and added, "A minor one. He just needs to heal."

Cass tilted her head to the side and let out the deep breath that she'd been holding in for a while. She tentatively reached out and pushed a strand of Tristan's lightly sweat-wetted hair from his face, gently brushing his hot skin. There was a long silence in which neither conscious Knight spoke, but simply watched the woman and the man she loved.

They'd seen this before. When Bors had been badly injured in battle, this was how Vanora had reacted. Though, they would later reason, Vanora was a lot bossier when she was trying to get Bors healed as quickly as possible. Cass didn't know what to do though. She knew that she knew nothing about healing- even with supposedly all the modern knowledge she should have known that made her wish she'd paid more attention in her Biology classes.

"How long has he been like this?"

"He was unconscious before we got back to the Fort."

Cass gave a small nod and said nothing more. She just stayed by Tristan's side, her frown remaining on her pale face. Lancelot ran his fingers through his dark curling hair and let out a long and loud sigh.

Dagonet looked over to him and said, "You should get some sleep."

After a second's thought, Lancelot nodded and swiftly left the room. He hated seeing any of the other Knights in such a condition that Tristan was in; even if it was the silent and usually dissociable scout. It was better to get out and know that he was in the right hands.

"You should probably get some sleep too," Cass said as she noticed the tall Knight stifle a yawn.

"I'll stay up with him. I'd not get any sleep now if I tried," she added the end part in a whisper.

Dagonet opened his mouth to reply, but changed his mind, and instead nodded.

"Wake me up if anything changes," Dagonet said as he lay down on the bed next to Tristan's.

Cass nodded and turned back to Tristan. His breathing was no longer as heavy, something that gave Cass some relief from the pressure on her mind. No matter how many times that Dagonet had told her that Tristan would be okay, Cass couldn't get past the fact the Tristan's seemingly biggest wound was in his side. It really bothered her that she didn't know the severity, but she couldn't bring herself to ask. Cass was almost glad that she was staying awake to watch over Tristan- if she slept; she knew _exactly_ what she'd be dreaming about.

Cass pulled a chair from the corner of the room and placed it so that she could sit next to Tristan. Her hand had worked its way to rest over his at some point in the night, though Tristan remained unconscious. Luckily, Tristan's fever didn't take, and Cass was glad to see some of the sweat from his brow lessen. She stayed in that position until someone entered the room later that morning.

Cass turned to see Galahad and Gawain. They came over to her, and looked down a Tristan with frowns that almost rivalled hers from the previous night. Cass put her index finger to her lips and made a shushing gesture and then pointed to Dagonet. The Knights nodded and whispered their next words instead.

"How are they?" Gawain asked.

Quietly, Cass replied, "Dagonet's fine, I think. And he keeps telling me that Tristan will be too..."

She added the last part more to herself as a reminder of the words she'd played over in her mind in the silence of that night. The men nodded.

"You look awful," Galahad observed

"Thanks, that's _just_ what a girl wants to hear," Cass replied, though she didn't really care what she looked like right now.

Galahad blanched and quickly tried to correct his mistake.

"I-I only meant that you look like you haven't slept-"

Cass gave him a weak smile, and answered, "I know what you meant. I must look dreadful right now."

"Did you sleep?" Gawain questioned.

Cass shook her head.

"We can stay with them if you want to get some sleep," Gawain suggested, knowing full well that Cass, like Vanora had, would most likely refuse to leave her Knight's side.

As he'd guessed, Cass again shook her head.

"I'll be okay. I won't sleep if I leave so I might as well stay and worry here," she answered, attempting another weak smile at the two men.

They stayed with Cass and their two injured friends for a while, but eventually decided that they'd be of more use by leaving.

"We'll go and get some breakfast. And bring some food back for the three of you," Gawain said as the two men started to make a move.

Cass nodded and turned back to Tristan as the closed the door behind them.

"I don't think Tristan will be wanting anything. I don't think he'll even be awake by the time we get back," Galahad said with a frown after Cass was clearly out of earshot.

"I know," Gawain conceded.

"But did you want to tell that to Cass?"

Galahad shook his head vehemently.

"You're right. Let's just be thankful that she didn't shout at us like Vanora did when Bors got hurt."

Gawain smiled and added, "That _could _only be because we got out of there before she started."

The two men laughed and made their way to the tavern where they met the others. Galahad and Gawain took their usual seats, and as Gawain was about to speak, Arthur arrived.

"How are they?" the commander asked, concern rippling his voice.

Anyone who had heard about how much Arthur cared for his Knights could see firsthand now that there was truth in those tales.

"Tristan's still unconscious. Dagonet's sleeping, but Cass says he's fine."

Arthur gave a simple nod.

"We were about to take food for Dagonet and Cass-" Galahad began.

"I'll take it," Arthur interrupted, knowing that that was where he was headed next anyway.

"Vanora'll want to go too as soon as you mention taking food to them. I'd best go with you to make sure she doesn't go too far... again," Bors added with a small, sideways smile.

The others grinned back as they remembered how bossy and loud Vanora had been in making sure the Bors got well again. Her motherly, caring instinct had seemed to have gone into overdrive; and they were all hoping it wouldn't rear its head so much with Tristan and Dagonet hurt.

"Be thankful that you were unconscious for most of that. I wish _I_ had been," Lancelot put in.

"Well you should have behaved yourself- maybe then you'd have escaped being slapped so much," Vanora answered, coming up behind Bors and placing a kiss on his cheek.

Lancelot held up his hands in a mock appeasing gesture whilst Vanora lay down several plates of food that she had been carrying. Before any of the others could say anything about food for Cass and Dagonet, Vanora had already strode off back to the bar top where yet more plates of food awaited her. Surprising them all with her forethought, she came back to the table, bringing the three plates with her.

"I'm going to take them for Dagonet, Cass and Tristan," she explained with a small smile.

"It's like she was listening to our conversation," Bors whispered to the others as he and Arthur stood.

"Who said I wasn't?" Vanora smiled before setting off towards the infirmary.

**Author's Note: Not sure if I'm completely happy with this one... But oh well... :)**

**Kit xx**


	46. Darkness Is The Best Disguise

Dagonet had really only just woken up, but as soon as he had, he'd checked that Tristan was no worse. It was obvious to him that Cass had been awake all night from the dark circles under her eyes and he tried to soothe her mind by telling her that Tristan would be alright. He didn't know how truthful he was actually being as he looked over Tristan, but Cass had seemed not to notice his doubts.

Bors and Arthur followed the pretty red-head as she marched ahead down the streets that Galahad and Gawain had just walked through. As Vanora pushed open the door with her foot, she startled Cass and Dagonet a little.

"Breakfast anyone?" Vanora said with a smile as she held out the plates she'd been carrying.

Dagonet nodded and took two of the plates from Vanora. No one said anything about the fact that Tristan's food would probably go uneaten as Dagonet set down his plate. Cass took hers with a fake smile, though she realised that she didn't feel hungry at all. Only at Vanora's insistence did she take a few bites and push the remainder around her plate for a little bit before she turned her attention back to Tristan. Vanora noticed, but she didn't say anything like she usually would have done. She remembered _exactly_ how she had felt when Bors was injured; she hadn't wanted to eat either.

Dagonet was the one to explain what had happened to Arthur, Bors and Vanora, and though they had already been told, they listened patiently, intently even. Cass, however, simply remained in her seat looking down at the man she loved, waiting for him to wake. She hadn't noticed that she wasn't really listening to anything that the others were saying until Arthur placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Cass turned to him, only then realising that Bors and Vanora had already left.

"Tristan's strong," Arthur said to her, his voice quiet.

She paused for a moment, trying to bring another false smile to her lips. It was most unsuccessful at passing for real emotion, but Arthur looked past it.

"I know," Cass answered in a whisper that she had not meant to escape her lips.

Arthur's hand slipped from her shoulder as he disappeared from the room, leaving Dagonet and Cass alone with the still-unconscious Tristan. There was a long silence that had all of the previous night been lingering in the room.

"Dagonet..." Cass whispered.

He looked up, almost surprised that she had spoken and broken the echoing silence.

"He _will_ wake up soon... won't he?"

There was something in her voice, a faltering weakness that hinted at the pain she was feeling but trying hard not to show.

"Soon," Dagonet replied as he stood and moved to stand beside Cass.

Cass nodded feebly and continued looking down at Tristan. It wasn't until he heard her sniff that Dagonet noticed she was crying again. He put his uninjured arm around her and pulled her to him. Before she knew it, Cass was sobbing into his chest. After a while, she pulled back a little, trying to stop her tears. She wasn't very successful.

"I'm sorry, Dagonet. This is really pathetic of me," she choked into his chest, trying to make light of her tears.

"No, it isn't," he answered, holding the sobbing girl to him.

"I just... It's just... Tristan's hurt and all I'm- all I'm doing is crying..."

"Shhhh. Calm yourself," Dagonet said soothingly.

After fighting back a few more of her tears and threatening sobs, Cass nodded. She didn't know why she nodded, but it just seemed the right thing to do.

"You should get some sleep," he advised Cass.

Eyes blinking away her fallen tears, she opened her mouth to argue with him, but Dagonet continued to speak before she could.

"When Tristan does wake up, he'll need more than a walking corpse; which is what you'll soon be if you don't sleep."

Cass couldn't disagree with that. She was so tired that she knew Dagonet's "walking corpse" comment would probably become reality if she didn't get some rest. But she _really _didn't want to leave Tristan.

Almost as if he had read her mind, Dagonet added, "Go. I'll take care of Tristan."

Cass stared at him seriously for a moment before sighing and eventually giving him a reluctant nod. He gave her a small, sideways smile and held up a hand in goodbye as she walked away. Cass paused in the door and turned back, her eyes finding Tristan one last time before she left, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

When she stepped outside though, Cass stopped in her tracks. She hadn't realised that she actually had no idea how she'd gotten to this building. After being led there by Lancelot in the dark, Cass had found no recognisable landmark features that would help her find her way. But she had to put that behind her as she set off again.

It took Cass numerous wrong turns to figure out that her tiredness and awful sense of direction would probably _not_ help her make it back to her room. She sighed, wondering how she had managed to get to wherever she was. _It's not even that big a Fort, how did I get lost?_ Frustrated, Cass turned around when she met another dead end, only to see someone that she didn't want to see. Someone who only seemed to turn up when she was alone.

As Aldwyn rounded the corner and saw Cass, his face lit up, though with not quite the intensity that had used to be there. Cass' heart sank. She did _not _want to have to put on a charade right now; but she knew she'd have to. Cass gave a small smile in return for the wide one that he was flashing at her.

"Good morning, Cassandra. What are you doing down here?"

Cass shrugged and answered truthfully, "Getting lost."

"Where are you headed?" he asked, the smile on his face remaining in place.

"My room," she replied, feeling a little uncomfortable at the admittance that she couldn't even find her way to her own room.

"My sense of direction is awful," Cass admitted when she saw the humoured confusion on his face.

"Well, I barely know my way around, but I can try to help you find your way," Aldwyn said.

However much Cass wanted to get back to her room and curl up in her warm bed, she was still reluctant to agree to blindly follow Aldwyn anywhere. She became even more reluctant in that moment as she realised that she'd left her swords in her room when Lancelot had come to get her. _But, _she reasoned, _what choice have I really got? Besides, if he _is _one of the plotters, he won't do anything to hurt me. They need me. _Her reasoning was more as an unsure justification to herself than anything solid, but she eventually nodded.

"If you could get me to the tavern, I can find my way from there," Cass said with a small, false smile.

Aldwyn's own smile broadened and they set off walking together.

"Why were _you_ down there anyway?" Cass asked him as she tried to surreptitiously satisfy her curiosity, whilst stifling a yawn.

Aldwyn paused for a moment, and then replied, "That's where my cousin lives."

_Sure it is, _Cass thought as she wondered what he was really doing that led him exactly to where she was lost. It took only five minutes for them to reach the familiar sight of the tavern as they emerged from the labyrinth of buildings that Cass' poor directional skills had led her into. She stopped just in sight of the tavern though, and Aldwyn stopped beside her, eyeing her quizzically.

"Thank you," Cass said politely.

Almost disappointedly, Aldwyn asked, "Are you sure you don't want me to walk you all the way back?"

Cass looked at him for a moment, before replying quietly, "No. No; thank you though. I don't know how long that I'd have been wandering around in circles without you."

Aldwyn smiled then and accepted her goodbye more easily. As Cass left, she couldn't help but feel some measure of relief that she was alone again; and almost to her bed. She needed to sleep, but mostly she needed to rest her mind from the worry that was overrunning it.

When she finally reached her room, Cass didn't even bother changing or removing her shoes before she slumped down on her bed, swirling herself in her sheets. Cass couldn't have stopped herself from sleeping then if she'd tried. Even in sleep though, her over-tired brain would grant her no respite. Her dreams were plagued by Tristan's face as she had seen him last night; drenched lightly in sweat, breathing heavy and eyes closed- eyes closed and remaining so. And in her dreams she saw his injuries recreated by Dagonet's description.

_ "They overwhelmed us in the beginning, but eventually they ran. I didn't know until after they'd fled that Tristan had even been hurt, he hid it so well and fought on anyway."_

It was as if she was seeing what had happened by the wild inventions and imaginings of her subconscious mind. And that was more nightmarish than what her conscious mind before could have ever conjured. Her dreams turned then to the usual reoccurring nightmares that hit her when she worried over Tristan.

Cass woke up screaming again, but she would later be thankful that no one had been around to hear her. Rubbing her eyes, Cass felt as if her sleep had been half-useless and had granted her no liberation from the weariness that her body felt. She sat up slowly and wished that she could have been able to sleep for a longer time than she had, but Cass could already predict that she would receive no such relief if she tried.

Instead, Cass swung her legs from the bed, only then noticing that she was still wearing her boots. Cass sighed and stood up slowly. But as she did something caught her eye. Something that had fallen from atop of her bed sheets and landed face down on the floor. Cass frowned and bent to pick up the piece of paper that sent a familiar chill up her spine. Even more, when she turned the paper over, her suspicions were confirmed.

Around the picture that she had drawn so long ago of the graveyard was a blood red circle. Cass gulped. She knew exactly who had drawn that red mark around her picture; but what made her feel sick was that that picture had not been there when she had fallen asleep. Which meant that someone had been inside her room while she was sleeping. She shivered, suddenly feeling a wave of fear that her supposed safe-haven was intruded upon right under her nose whilst she slept.

That thought was horrible, but Cass knew that she had to go to the graveyard. If she didn't, she would run the risk of them coming back to her room. And _that_ she couldn't have. _It's bad enough that they've even been here once_, Cass thought as she moved over to the table where her swords lay. She wouldn't forget them again- _especially_ not this time.

Pulling her cloak about her shoulders with a deep breath, Cass left her room. She would have gone back to Tristan, but now she _had_ to find out what the plotters wanted. And she hated that they could control her so easily. She hated that it meant that she had to leave Tristan in such a vulnerable state more though.

Cass stepped outside, and saw that the sky was dark; too dark to see anything properly. _Perfect for them... Darkness is the best disguise_, Cass thought grimly with a frown. As she set off, she hugged her cloak to her body, glad that she had it to protect her from the chilling fingers of the cold's reach. She just wished that she had something that worked so well to protect everyone she loved from the hands of the plotters.

Cass noticed no one- not that she could have made anyone out in the shadows- as she traversed the Fort, knowing her way perfectly this time. At the Gates, Cass was briefly met by Roman guards before being let through into the open field beyond. She couldn't help but feel a certain likeness to the night she had found herself in this time, waking up in the forest. Walking alone with a sense of looming fear, Cass tried to steel herself to face what awaited her at the graveyard.

She really wished that she'd brought along some sort of light with her because her sight was limited to mere silhouettes and shadows. _I wish I had a torch_, Cass found herself thinking, for once wishing she had something of the modern world with her. Before she knew it, Cass' feet had taken her straight to her destination. She waited for a moment in the darkness, waiting for the voices that she knew and hated. No sound came though.

Cass sighed and said loudly to the shadows, "You didn't ruin my drawing for nothing. What do you want?"

A short silence followed and Cass tried to squint through the darkness. She tried to make out the shadows of the bodies she knew to be somewhere near.

"My, my, my; someone's impatient today, aren't they?" the second, higher-pitched voice from her memory answered.

"Whatever," Cass bit back.

"I will be missed if I don't get back soon, so get on with it."

"No you won't," the first voice that had spoken to her said.

"They all think that you're still sleeping."

If they could have seen Cass' face, then they would have noticed the frown now creasing her brow.

"That still doesn't mean that you can't hurry up with telling me whatever it is that you want."

"She _is_ feisty," a new voice said, one that seemed to be as sneering as the other two had been.

"She'll be _very_ useful."

Cass grimaced, though no one could see.

"What do you want?" repeated Cass, quieter now she'd learned that there was at least one more person in the darkness with her.

There was another silence, until one of the voices spoke. Only it was a voice that sounded from behind Cass and it was _distinctly_ female. _Another one?_ Cass thought, her eyes widening.

"There's been a slight change of plan," the fourth voice said.

"What do you mean?" Cass asked, trying to keep her voice calm as she turned toward the voice.

She suddenly felt surrounded and quite claustrophobic amongst the dark shadows and the figures they hid. _A change of plan?_ She didn't know what it could be, but she presumed it meant that they were finally going to reveal exactly what they wanted her to do.

"Circumstances have changed-" the first, deep voice began before he was interrupted by the second man.

"And so have our plans."

"As you're so close to Arthur that-" the third man started.

But it was the woman who finally revealed to Cass what they were talking about.

"_You're_ going to kill him for us."

**Author's Note: Hope this chapter is a little bit longer for you guys. :) Sorry it's been taking me so long to post nowadays, I have some family health issues going on that are kind of taking up my time and mindset at the moment, so I hope you guys will bear with me until everything's better. :)**

**Oh and by the way, I got my exam results today, and I'm really pleased- and oh yes, I have no reason to tell you guys that other than I'm still on a high. :P**

**Kit xx**


	47. Reluctance And Composure

Cass turned and stared blankly in the direction of the voice. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard.

"What?"

There was a long pause, and all that Cass could do was wait in disbelief for a response.

"You'll be the one to kill Arthur," the first voice said, in a tone that suggested he was seriously enjoying this revelation.

"No," Cass whispered so quietly that the others struggled to hear her.

"What was that?" the third man asked.

Cass raised her head and spoke louder this time as she said, "I said, no."

Of the plotters there, none of then answered Cass; so she continued.

"No. There's no way- not a chance. I _won't_. I _will_ _not _do it."

"Yes, you _will_. Remember what it is that we can do."

"I'm _not _going to kill Arthur!" Cass all but shouted at them.

Another long pause echoed through the night. Fists clenched, Cass stood, knowing that she was surrounded, but knowing that she had to stand her ground. She _wouldn't_ kill Arthur. And she didn't understand how they thought that they could convince her to. _Why would they expect me to agree to _this_? They must be stupid if they think that I'll-_

"So you don't mind us killing your friends now?" the first man asked with a sneer.

Cass took a breath. _If this is it, if this is the stand I'm taking, then I may as well do it right._

"I don't even think that you could do it- kill anyone. Why else would you need me to kill Arthur for you?"

The anger and strength that Cass had managed to pull to the surface had shocked everyone; even Cass herself. But she was pleased with herself for it, and for reinforcing her voice with a strength that she could barely feel. The plotters, however, felt very differently.

"You should probably think before you open your mouth, girl; that kind of talk could get you killed," the woman said coldly.

"I'm through with being scared of you; of what you'll do to my friends. You aren't in _any _position to kill Arthur, let alone anyone else."

"Don't be so sure. We've already done more than you know."

"I don't believe you," Cass replied angrily.

"You should," one of the other voices chipped in.

She wished that they'd stop trying to keep her hanging onto their plot. This was her taking a stand, but all the while, she couldn't stop wondering what it was that they had done that she did not know.

"What is it that you've done then? What is it that's supposed to keep you blackmailing me?"

"We're the reason that your little lover got hurt."

It was said in such a blunt and matter-of-fact manner that it took Cass a moment to process what they'd said. _Tristan? They're the ones- they're the reason?_

"W-what?" Cass asked in a barely audible whisper.

"We sent those Knights off on a false trail right into a group of Woads," the second voice finished.

"B-but; no... You-"

"Your scout didn't even see it coming."

Cass felt a silent tear trickle over her cheek, and for once she was glad that they were in the dark. It meant that they couldn't see how badly they were getting to her. But they could hear it in her wavering voice.

"Why...?"

"Weakening the Knights is always a benefit," the woman put in with that same cold voice.

"But... You said if I did as you said- you said no one would get hurt," Cass said, stumbling over her words.

"_Actually_, we never said that," the first voice said.

If Cass could have seen his face, then she would have seen the smirk that had taken a hold of his features.

"All that we said is that people would get hurt if you _don't _do as we say."

Cass' mouth fell open at his words. She couldn't believe what he was saying.

"So- so what's the point then?" Cass managed when she'd regained her composure slightly.

"If you're- If you're just going to hurt them anyway, then why should I- why should I do anything that you want me to?"

"We could kill you right now-"

"But you've just told me that you need me."

"Let's get one thing straight girl; we don't need you to kill Arthur. You just make it easier for us."

"Now that you know about this though, you're a part of it. And you don't get to just leave. If you want a way out now, it's easy. We'll kill you and be done with you."

"What choice have you got?" the first man laughed.

Cass held back more tears as her hands clenched around the hilts of her swords. _So that's it then? Do as they say or they kill me right now?_

In a whisper, Cass replied, "You can try."

The sound of her swords being drawn was plainly heard by the four around her.

"Stupid girl," the woman began.

"Did you not think that we'd have come prepared? There are already two arrows pointed at you; and if you want us to prove it, just _try_ and move those swords."

Cass paused. She assumed that they probably did have weapons with them- they'd have been foolish not to- and _she _felt foolish to have not quite thought that through. But she couldn't back down now, not since she'd started against them. Before she could even process what she ought to do, Cass felt a hand around her wrist. Immediately, her other hand struck out, and Cass felt like smiling as she heard the thud of the sword hilt colliding with bone. She heard a grunt, but the hand did not let go.

But it wasn't too long before another strong hand enclosed around her other wrist too. And that was when Cass knew that she was in trouble. Soon disarmed, she started to panic, but tried to keep the feeling below the surface. They held her arms up so that she could not have defended herself even if she _had_ seen the blow coming.

Cass almost doubled over at the force of the fist against her stomach. She could barely hold back the cry that would let them know that they really had her right where they wanted her. But she did, somehow she did; even as they hit her again; and again. Cass found herself biting her lip until it bled just to stop from making a sound.

"One last chance," one of the men said.

"I will _never _kill Arthur," Cass spat through gritted teeth.

The woman's hand smacked hard against the side of Cass' face and she winced.

"Well then, we'll just kill you now and then go and finish off your lover."

Trying to regain her senses, Cass stopped struggling against those strong hands' grips. All she could think was _why_? _Why do they want to kill Arthur? Me? ...Tristan?_

"No..."

"He's been left all but defenceless, there'll only be one other Knight with him. It would be all too easy."

"No, don't... You can't..." Cass whispered.

"Looks like someone's having a change of heart," the second man said from beside her, so close to her that she could feel his breath on her cheek.

There was a long pause until the woman asked, "Well?"

Cass hated that she had to say it, but she did.

"Fine. I'll do it."

She had finally realised that the only way out of this _was_ to agree with their plan. Even if it just meant that she could warn the Knights. If she could just make sure that Tristan was protected, that they couldn't hurt him anymore; it wouldn't matter so much that they wanted to kill her. _I have to warn them._ _Dying here will help no one_, she thought quickly.

"Good," the third man's voice said from somewhere to her left.

"We'll give you signal of when to do it."

"You'll know," the first man put in from her right.

"Other events will give you the opportunity."

Along silence echoed through the night until Cass felt that she had to speak.

"...Right..." she said eventually.

"Remember; your mouth stays shut."

The hands grasping her wrists released her, and Cass slumped to the muddy earth floor. She heard the rustle of clothes as they moved away and Cass searched the ground for her swords that had been dropped a few feet away from her. With them in her grip once more, Cass slowly stood up. Pain flashed in her side and Cass grimaced. As much as their blows had hurt her- were still hurting her- she had to get back.

Sheathing her swords, she held her arm around her ribs as she started back to the Fort. Cass made her way to the Gates as the first traces of a lightening sky appeared and the Roman guards let her through with only so much as a glance. Cass sighed as she walked towards her room. _Some guards they are,_ Cass thought wearily. _They wouldn't be able to tell who I am, let alone who they just let in._ Cass sighed again at the thought of how many lives could be saved if they'd just been vigilant.

When she arrived at her room, Cass lit her candle and slowly stripped herself of her clothing. With her vest off of her body, Cass looked down at where they'd hit her. She could already see the discoloured bruises forming on her pale skin. Cass frowned, but tried to put those bruises to the back of her mind then though as she pulled her black dress over her head.

She was out of her room as quickly as she could have been, only just remembering to blow out the candle that she'd only briefly lit. Cass walked outside again and set off for the infirmary. When she was half way there though, she realised that she still didn't really know the way. All she could do was try to find her way, and it was only by sheer luck that she did.

Cass pushed open the door to the room that she'd left Tristan in, and saw that Dagonet was still where he'd said he'd stay until she returned. He looked up as she entered and nodded to her. Cass' eyes flashed to Tristan, who, she was depressed to see, was still not awake. She moved over to sit beside Tristan, wondering how to tell Dagonet what had just happened. But when he saw the bruise darkening the side of her face, Dagonet's face darkened and he started that conversation for her.

"What happened?"

"I-" Cass began, before noticing the open window.

She stared directly at Dagonet then, and in a low voice finished, "... walked into my door."

Dagonet looked back at Cass and saw the lie blatantly hidden in her eyes. He didn't know the details of what had happened, but her quick glance at the window had told him why she really had that bruise. And why she'd told him that lie.

"Let me have a look," Dagonet said as he moved over to her.

"I'll be fine; it's just a bruise. I just need to try not to be so clumsy," Cass replied, trying to make sure that Dagonet didn't worry too much or act too suspiciously.

Dagonet pushed her black curls away from over the bruise and examined it, a frown creasing over his features.

He stepped back from Cass and said, "You really should watch where you walk."

At the sound of his continuing her lie, Cass brought a false smile to her lips and answered, "It _was _dark, you know."

Neither said anything for a short time, and a familiar silence entered the room.

Until Cass said, "So he's still unconscious, then?"

"He woke while you were... sleeping," Dagonet answered, surprising Cass with the good news.

"He did?"

Dagonet nodded.

"I told him to rest. I'm surprised he hasn't woken at the sound of us talking, he's such a-"

"-Light sleeper," Cass finished as she looked down at Tristan's not unconscious, but sleeping frame.

They stayed in the quiet again for some time, before Cass shivered. Dagonet frowned again.

"Are you cold?"

Cass nodded and said, "Do you mind if I-"

But Dagonet was already over at the window and had pulled it closed, drawing the curtains after it. It had been a perfectly valid excuse that allowed her to elaborate on what had happened.

"Thanks," Cass said, glad that she could finally speak.

"What happened?" Dagonet asked again; only this time, he expected a real explanation.


	48. Familiar Silences

It didn't take Cass long to explain what had happened to Dagonet, and he listened patiently to what she said. She didn't know why, but as she recounted the story to the tall Knight, she found that she was crying again. Dagonet moved back over to her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. But even though the gesture was kind, and she did appreciate it, Cass couldn't stop the tears from falling down her cheeks.

"Are you really alright then?" he asked with a frown.

"I... I think so..."

Cass shook her head and tried to sound more certain as she continued, "This shouldn't be about me right now anyway; we have to warn Arthur. We have to make sure that he-"

Dagonet's shaking head interrupted her before she could finish though. She stared at him, waiting for him to speak.

"This changes everything."

"It- it doesn't, Dagonet. I don't- Arthur wanted me to keep doing as they said. How-"

"Them hurting you... It's not what Arthur meant when he asked you to keep this up. I'll talk to him. We'll make sure that everyone's protected and we'll take the one following you."

"Dagonet, I don't see how that could work," Cass replied, putting a hand to her head in frustration.

"We'll make them tell us who the others are. It will be okay, Cass."

"How can you know that though? They already hurt Tristan... If they- if they hurt anyone else-"

"Trust me, Cass."

After a long silence, Cass gave a simple nod in reply. She sat there with Dagonet beside her for a moment before she felt something familiar and gentle on her wrist. Cass looked down to see Tristan's fingers wrapped around the hand not on her head. For the first time since Tristan had returned, a real smile took to her lips and lit up her tear-shrouded blue eyes.

"Tristan," she whispered.

"You're awake."

He didn't say anything for a while, and he just watched as a few more tears slid down over her pale cheeks. But Tristan's eyes almost immediately found the bruise on her face and he squeezed her hand gently in a questioning gesture. When she didn't reply, he spoke, his voice deep and croaky from its lack of use, that had kept him quieter for longer even than usual.

"Are you alright?"

Cass frowned, her smile quickly falling from her face.

"Shouldn't _I_ be the one asking if _you're_ alright?"

He gave her a serious look that she knew meant that he required a real answer. But she didn't want to make him worry so soon after waking. Cass knew that he'd immediately want to go and do something he shouldn't. And she couldn't let that happen.

"I walked into a door in the dark," she answered, repeating the lie she'd told Dagonet and hoping he'd buy it.

"You're a terrible liar," he said as he tried to sit up.

"And _you _were supposed to come back safely," Cass replied quietly.

"You need to stay lying down," Dagonet interrupted as he pushed Tristan back again.

Tristan scowled at the taller Knight, but reluctantly let himself be pushed down. He would never admit it, but despite his long amount of rest, his injuries were still plaguing him and sending sharp pains through his body. He didn't _want_ to lie down, but right now, he understood that he had to pick his battles. And right now, he was more concerned about the bruise on Cass' face than any hurt to himself.

"What happened?" Tristan asked Cass directly.

He watched as Cass' teeth teased her bottom lip and her eyes flickered to Dagonet.

"Did they hurt you?"

Cass felt his grip around her wrist tighten slightly as his other fist clenched. Tristan tried to push himself up again but Dagonet stopped him.

"Tristan-" she began.

"Did they?"

Cass stared at him reluctantly, but eventually conceded. She closed her eyes for a second and gave him an answer in a nod.

"I'm okay. It's my own fault. It's just-"

Tristan let go of Cass's arm and pushed against Dagonet's attempts to keep him lying down. Anger flashed in his usually passive face, and Cass did the only thing that she could think to do to stop him from storming outside right then. She took hold of his face between her hands and looked him directly in the eye.

"I provoked them. They told me that I have to be the one to kill Arthur and I objected. I... They told me that they were the ones... They were the reason that you got hurt and I- I couldn't stop myself... It's my fault that I got hurt, but if you get up now, all that will happen is that you'll hurt yourself-"

Tristan had stopped listening to her though, as he swung his legs from the bed. His anger was blinding him from all else, even the pain that he knew he should be feeling. But Cass couldn't give up so easily. She couldn't let him hurt himself when he was in so vulnerable a state.

"And if you get hurt, you'll only be hurting me more than whatever they did _ever_ could have."

He froze. Some sort of inner conflict flickered across Tristan's face. He wanted so much to kill those who'd hurt Cass, but the look in her wide blue eyes was forcing him to pause.

"Please don't," she whispered.

Tristan frowned and held Cass' gaze for as long as she could bear him looking at her like that. And when she looked to the floor, away from his intense glare, even through his stubbornness, there was something so affecting in that simple gesture that made Tristan change his mind. His hand found its place where it usually rested so tenderly against her cheek. Cass looked back up at Tristan, her eyes filled with anxiety.

"Tristan," Dagonet said from beside them, his voice breaking their silent moment.

"You need to lie down."

There was a small pause and Tristan nodded, not taking his eyes off of Cass. As he lay backwards, his hand slipped from her cheek, but Cass entwined her fingers with his as she sat beside him.

"What happened?" Tristan asked, this time, more calmly.

It took longer for Cass to explain what had happened before to Tristan than it had for her to explain it to Dagonet. Though that was mostly because every time she said something, she half expected him to try and get straight up again and head for the door. He didn't though; because her sad, once-again-tearful eyes held him mesmerised, and focussing on them helped him push back the feelings of anger and hate he harboured towards those plotters.

"I told Arthur that this was a bad idea," he began once she'd finished.

"Shhh," Cass said.

"What's done is done. It can't be changed now."

Tristan did not look as if he would ever agree with that statement, and so he simply did not reply.

Dagonet moved closer to Tristan then though and said, "I need to check your stitches, I think you getting up might have strained them, if not broken a few."

Luckily, the movement had not been enough to pull free any of Tristan's stitches, but he _had_ strained them.

After Dagonet was finished chastising Tristan for the rashness of his actions, Dagonet said, "I'll go and speak to Arthur."

"Wait, Dagonet, they'll know I told you if you-"

The tall Knight shook his head and replied, "I'll pretend it's about Tristan waking up."

Looking relieved, Cass nodded, and Dagonet left the room. The silence that fell over the room was a welcome silence this time; it was the comfortable, familiar silence that Cass and Tristan often lapsed into. Cass couldn't help but feel slightly happy amongst all this worry at the fact that Tristan was awake, and that they were alone together.

"So," Cass started, as usual, the one to break their silence.

"How are _you_ feeling?"

Tristan shrugged, but then had to hide the wince that threatened to crease his features. But he was so used to hiding his expression that he managed to conceal his pain from Cass.

"I'll live," he answered simply.

Cass didn't even try to hold back the small smile that formed on her lips as she replied in attempted joking way, "You'd better. It seems that I don't cope too well without you."

The smile that he saved only for her formed on his lips for only a moment, vanishing only because of the truth to the latter part of that statement. She seemed to notice his change of expression this time though.

"Tristan. You know this will be okay, right? Arthur and the others will end this."

He let out a long breath, but said nothing in reply. Cass bit her lip again. She didn't know how to say what she knew that she wanted to say next.

"This plot won't happen, no matter how many threats that they give."

"You can't know that," he said, no hint of emotion in his voice.

But then Cass' smile broadened, and she replied, "I'm from the future, remember?"

Tristan frowned; which made Cass wonder if she shouldn't have said anything. But he nodded slowly. Nothing else was said for a long while, as Tristan and Cass just stayed together, calm in their familiar silence. Cass vaguely wondered what time it was, and when someone would return to tell them what the new plan was, but she kept quiet; she knew that she'd find out when they _did_ return. So she just continued to enjoy the moment.

"Cass?"

"Hm?" she said quietly.

Tristan paused, as if he was almost reluctant to continue.

"Will you sing?"

Cass blinked.

"W-what?"

"Will you sing?" he repeated.

Cass' cheeks turned bright red, as she asked, "Why?"

Tristan paused again before quietly answering, "Because your voice is beautiful. Because I want you to."

Cass faltered, her blush spreading and darkening over her entire face. She knew what a lovely thing that it was for him to have said, so much so that she almost could have grinned at him for the compliment. _But singing?_ _He's only ever heard me humming... I can't... I can't sing..._

"Tristan, I... I've never really sung in front of anyone... I- I'm not very good... I just..."

Cass was about to say something, but the faraway look in his eyes made her pause.

She sighed, and said in a whisper, "Don't laugh, okay?"

Tristan didn't understand at all why she would even think that he would laugh at her; her voice was beautiful. But he nodded anyway. The reason he had been so reluctant to ask her to sing, was because he had not wished to see her insecurities blossom. And they had. _At least she's not thinking about the plot anymore... Unlike me._ But when Cass started singing, Tristan _wasn't _thinking about the plot anymore either, he was just listening to her voice, and the words that she sang.

_It's a little bit funny,  
this feeling inside,  
I'm not one of those who can easily hide,  
I don't have much money ,  
but boy if I did,  
I'd buy a big house where  
we both could live._

So excuse me forgetting,  
but these things I do,  
see I've forgotten if  
they're green or they're blue,  
anyway the thing is,  
what I really mean,  
yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen.

And you can tell everybody,  
this is your song,  
It may be quite simple but  
now that is done,  
I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind  
that I put down in words,  
how wonderful life is now you're in the world

If I was a sculptor,  
but then again no,  
or girl who makes potions in a travelling show,  
I know it's not much but,  
it's the best I can do,  
My gift is my song and  
this one's for you.

And you can tell everybody,  
this is your song,  
It may be quite simple but  
now that is done,  
I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind,  
that I put down in words,  
how wonderful life is now you're in the world.

Cass opened her eyes and looked down at the Knight by her side, nervous as to what he might say. But when she did, she saw that his eyes, too, were closed and only just opening to look at her. Those deep brown eyes that Cass so often found herself getting lost in stared up at her as the smile he saved only for her played upon his lips.

"Beautiful," he whispered.

Cass's blush darkened and she didn't say anything for a while.

"Thanks," she eventually replied in an equally quiet voice.

"That song reminds me of you," Cass added, her eyes flickering away from his.

She felt a gentle squeeze of her hand and she looked back up.

"Cass-" was all that Tristan got to say before the door swung open.

**Author's Note: I don't own "Your Song", I'm pretty sure Elton John does; so if ever Elton reads this... I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind... ;P**

**Again, sorry it took so long. Thank again for bearing with me guys! :)**

**Kit xx**


	49. To Make Things Right

Arthur stepped through the open doorway, followed by Dagonet and Lancelot. The faces of all three had a stony and serious look about them. _So much for the good mood that I was almost in then_, she thought unhappily.They waited until Lancelot pushed the door closed behind him before anyone spoke.

"Good to see you're awake," Arthur said to Tristan, who gave a nod in return.

He turned his attention to Cass then as he added, "I'm sorry that it came to this, Cass. It was not my intention when I asked you to-"

Cass interrupted him before he could finish, "I know. It was a good plan at the time."

Arthur gave her a fleeting and false smile in thanks for her understanding, before continuing.

"We've come up with a plan."

Both Cass and Tristan looked up expectantly.

"We're going to take the one following you and force him-"

"Or _her_," Lancelot put in.

"_Or_ her," Arthur corrected.

"And we'll force them to reveal the others."

Arthur paused, and Cass looked between the Knights. They all seemed set in their resolve.

"But... I don't know. There's something nagging at me, I just... What if the one you take doesn't say anything?" Cass asked, a frown creasing her brow.

No one really had an answer for that. Of course, it was always a possibility that they might be reluctant in giving the Knights the information that they wanted. But there were always ways to persuade them, even if Arthur hated having to resort to using them. But Cass had another idea.

"What if..." Cass bit her lip, as she tried to suggest an idea that she knew would definitely not go down well with Tristan.

"What if I convince them to meet with me, and... and when they're all there, together, then you take them.

"No."

Cass let out a small sigh at the sound of the voice at her side. She knew that he wouldn't like her plan. She turned to see him sitting up beside her again, pushing aside his pain for his feelings for Cass.

"There's more chance of getting information that way," Cass replied, trying to talk sense into the man she loved.

"No," Tristan repeated.

"They've already hurt you once, what's to stop them from doing worse if you go back?" Lancelot argued, his voice stern.

Tristan nodded in agreement.

"I'll be fine. But this is the only way that guarantees you can get more than one of them."

"You can't," Tristan said, his deep voice deadly serious.

"Please Tristan, try to understand-"

"If you get hurt again-"

"Please Tristan, hear me out. I think... It's my fault. I... know what happens to all of you; and this- this plot doesn't exist without me. I think I changed history when I came back. If anything happens to any of you right now, _very _bad things could happen."

The four men stared at her as she finished.

"Let me make this right."

Her eyes were pleading, but none of the Knights knew how to respond to her. She knew things that they never would of a future that they would never see. And there was some sense to her logic. Arthur could see it; so could Dagonet and Lancelot. But none of them wanted to tell Tristan that her plan was good. It seemed to be up to the usually silent scout with his usually schooled expression.

Anticipation and worry grew in the atmosphere of the small room as they waited, no one speaking. It was broken only when Tristan gave a short nod. The whole room seemed to let free a held breath. Cass wound her arms around Tristan, careful not to touch his wounds, and she kissed his cheek, just where one of his tattoos lay.

"Thank you," she whispered quietly.

The others stayed silent until Cass moved back from Tristan; and then Arthur said, "So it's settled then?"

Cass nodded, and beside her, a reluctant Tristan did too.

"We should do this soon," Arthur said, resuming command of the situation.

"Agreed," Lancelot added.

"Tomorrow, if possible."

Cass tried to keep the surprise about the suddenness of it all from her face, and she was mostly successful; for once.

"They won't meet in daylight. They always stick to the shadows. And they never seem to actually want to tell me anything-"

"They don't need to," Dagonet interrupted.

"We'll get them to talk. All you need to do is get them together-"

"And not get killed, of course," Lancelot added.

Tristan shot him a harsh glare at the Knight, and Cass put her hand on his arm. His eyes flickered to hers for a moment, and she gave him what she wanted to be a reassuring smile.

"But how can I do that? I mean, surely, at the moment they think that I hate them..."

But the answer hit her as she trailed off, and Cass finished, "What if we have an argument?"

Eyebrows rose at the suggestion, but Cass was quick to elaborate.

"A fake argument, of course; but if they believe that I'm angry with you, they're more likely to accept a meeting with me on more amicable terms."

"A fake argument..." Arthur pondered.

"But what about?" Dagonet asked.

_That_ had Cass stumped. _What about, indeed?_ Cass wondered. She couldn't even remember having a real argument with the Knights- or anyone else really for that matter.

"Perhaps..." she began slowly.

"Something about me being a woman. Sexism's always a topic that annoys me."  
"Sexism?" Lancelot asked with a frown.

Cass frowned then too, realising the slip of her tongue.

"Discrimination based on gender. It's quite obvious in this Fort- not because of any of you- but just, just the time we're in. Women just aren't worth as much here," she said, adding the last part as if it were something distasteful to her tongue.

"But I'm not sure if it'll work, because, well none of you treat women like they're worth any less than a man."

She didn't count Lancelot's womanising ways as anything near sexist amongst all the other injustices that took place without anyone even realising it was wrong.

"That's true, I love women," Lancelot put in with a smirk.

"And it's obvious that Tristan does too."

Cass smiled and shook her head at seeing Tristan glowering at the Knight again; but her skin-dyeing blush was back on her cheeks.

"Maybe something else," Dagonet suggested.

"I'll consider this overnight," Arthur muttered cautiously.

"Drop something into conversation... I'll... overreact and start something," Cass said just a carefully.

Arthur nodded and Lancelot said, smirking once more, "We'll just... leave you two _alone_ again."

Cass' blush darkened at the implication. Lancelot was always like that; too overly flirtatious and frank about things; and that always succeeded in making Cass feel uncomfortable. But the three men departed, with Dagonet offering a reminder- that seemed more of an order- telling Tristan to lie down again and rest. With Cass agreeing with the tall Knight, Tristan seemed to have no choice in the matter as he lay back.

It wasn't long before Cass convinced Tristan that he should get some sleep. But he only agreed if she promised that she would get some rest too; and reluctantly agreed to sleep in the bed beside Tristan's. For once, Cass slept better than she had in a long while. She woke up before Tristan did, but when she sat up and swung her legs off of the bed, the movement alerted him. Tristan sat up before she could stop him.

"Tristan, you shouldn't get up," Cass began, but Tristan ignored her.

"I swear, you're just too stubborn for your own good," she added as she stood up.

He beckoned her without speaking and she slowly made her way over to Tristan until she was standing beside him. She hadn't remembered the state her hair was always in after she woke up until Tristan's hand moved up to smooth down some of the frizz. Cass blushed, but Tristan just continued to brush his fingers slowly through her hair.

"It's not your fault, you know," he said quietly, in a low voice.

Cass blinked doubtfully. _This is my fault. I caused it..._ she thought ruefully.

"It isn't."

He paused and then added, "We'll finish this today."

"_We_?"

He stared at her for a moment.

"I hope that you mean me and the others by we-"

"I meant me too," he clarified in the same low voice.

"Tristan, no. Please don't. Just... just stay here for a bit longer."

"Cass-"

"I don't doubt that you could fight them- kill them even- but you're hurt..."

"I'll be fine-"

Cass grimaced, realising that he didn't seem to want to let this go. And his stubbornness usually won these arguments for him. She was determined not to let him win this time though. A knock at the door stopped the argument before Cass could offer a retort; and Cass grudgingly went over to the door. She opened it to a maid, she guessed one that specialised in the infirmary as Cass was sure that she'd never seen the woman before.

The woman was almost as tall as Dagonet and straight-backed, which made her look even taller; so Cass strained her neck to look up at her. She didn't speak, but merely held out a couple of thick blankets. She left as soon as Cass took them, not even waiting for Cass to say thank you. _Weird_, Cass thought as she turned back to Tristan and placed the blankets down beside him.

"Tristan, please, just- for me- will you stay here? Just for now?"

Tristan looked reluctant to agree; his stubbornness still wouldn't let him- even though he saw how unhappy Cass was at the thought of him leaving to fight these plotters. So Cass said the only thing that she could think of to convince him to try and let this go; even if it was technically blackmail.

"Besides... If you leave here, then I won't talk to the plotters."

Tristan frowned. Eventually he gave in though with a reluctant nod.

"Thank you," she whispered softly, leaning over the bed to place a kiss on Tristan's cheek.

The Knight turned his head as she did though, so instead of meeting his cheek, her lips found his. His kiss left her mind spinning; there was something so fluid, but desperate in it.

When he pulled back, Tristan stared at her seriously and said, "Be careful."


	50. Some Things Call For An Argument

Cass left Tristan after that kiss; a deep frown set into her expression as she walked away. She knew that she should get this plan over and done with. It would be a weight off everyone's shoulders; especially hers. But Cass went back to her room first to change; she had to act normal for this to work. It didn't take her too long to find her way back to her room and, once there, she changed into her red dress.

But not before looking down at herself and seeing the dark bruises on her body. She didn't dare touch them, just in case they hurt as badly as they looked. She hadn't been able to truly see the damage they'd done when she'd looked at them in the candlelight last night, but now they were vivid and angry marks on her skin. Another reminder that she had to end this today, before anything further happened- _to anyone._

Cass left her room with her swords tied about her waist and headed straight for the tavern where she expected the Knights to be waiting. She could tell from the amount of people wandering about the Fort that she had clearly not awoken early. Only the sky had worked to mislead her about that, covered as it was in a thick grey cloud that stretched for as far as the eye could see. _Yep, that's British weather, _Cass thought grimly as she increased her pace. _Knowing my luck, it'll rain when I'm supposed to have this meeting..._

At the tavern, Cass immediately spotted the others. Not all of them looked to be in too pleasant a mood, which, of course, would add to the illusion of the fight they would invent whether they meant it to or now. Bors and Galahad were among those whose faces were stony, so Cass guessed that everyone had been informed. She smiled as she sat down in her usual seat beside Tristan's empty one.

"How's Tristan?" Dagonet asked.

"He's alright, I guess. I made him stay where he was," she answered, almost smiling again as part of the charade.

"With all his stubbornness, he tried to convince me that he'd be fine to leave the infirmary."

"Tried to convince you, did he?" Lancelot asked, looking over at Cass in his usually suggestive and joking way.

Cass used it though. Used her discomfort with how he brought up things like that. She almost felt sorry for Lancelot. He was such an easy target.

"Lancelot, are you ever _not_ thinking about sex?" she replied, her harsher tone signalling that this was meant as no joke.

The dark, curly-haired Knight opened his mouth to respond when Bors started laughing.

"I don't know what you're laughing about, you're just as bad! Ten children- another on the way!"

That shut Bors up, even though Cass had not meant it at all the way she'd said it.

"Why can't you people just get it through your heads that women are _not_ just pieces of meat to be used whenever you please?" Cass vented, being a lot louder and attracting a lot more attention than she would have liked.

"Sounds like _someone's _having a bit of man trouble," Gawain whispered to Galahad, who tried to stifle a laugh with a small cough.

"I heard that," Cass spat back, her cheeks darkening slightly.

"Honestly, all of you- you're just so- urgh, you're so _infuriating_!"

"Cass, calm down," Arthur said in that usually calm, authoritative voice.

"_Don't_ tell me what to do," Cass said as she stood up.

She was getting an awful lot of looks that she wished she wasn't. _But that's good_, she told herself. _We want people to look. We want people to think that it's real. This _is_ what we want. _Thought no matter how many times she told herself that, Cass couldn't hold back her embarrassment from those many stares fixed upon her.

"Sit down," Arthur ordered more sternly.

_Here it is, _Cass thought. _The opportunity to really make them believe I dislike Arthur. That I'll go along with their plan._

"You have _no_ right to tell me what to do-"

"Yes, I do have a right to tell you what to do. I am the commander at this Fort, and as such, it is my job to ensure that things like this don't get out of hand."

Arthur paused and then added, "Now sit down and stop making a fool of yourself."

Cass blinked; her mouth hung open. She had not expected such venom for Arthur- even if it was false. She hadn't known he was capable of it- though she hadn't known that she'd been able to act so well either.

Eventually, she gathered her thoughts and retorted, "I'm only the fool because of your making."

Cass stared at him for a moment longer before pushing passed Lancelot's chair and leaving the tavern at quite a speed. Vanora came over then, a confused look on her face.

"What on Earth was that about?" she asked.

Bors shrugged and answered, "No idea. I'm sure she'll come around soon enough though."

"Tristan probably owes her one big apology," Galahad said with a small smile.

"And we won't get an apology until he _does_ apologise-" Gawain began.

"If we're waiting for that to happen, we'll all be grey and ancient before she speaks to us again," Lancelot put in with a smirk.

Cass stormed off, maintaining her act as much as the others had back in the tavern. She went to the only place that she could think of going without raising too much suspicion, or without fear of being heard by any random passerby that wasn't intentionally listening to her.

Cass arrived at the stables quickly, finding that once she got there, she was alone. _Well, not completely alone,_ she thought as she made her way over to Kaydin. She smiled, realising that she hadn't seen him since the plotters had threatened him. The stable master had been feeding him well she was glad to see, and Cass made a mental reminder to thank him when this was all over. Kaydin seemed to bear her no ill will for her absence as she reached out and he nuzzled her open palm. After stroking him for a short while, Cass turned away, leaning on the wooden post beside his stall.

"I want to talk to you," Cass said aloud, seemingly to no one.

"I've had enough. They treat me as if I'm _nothing._ I want to help you."

She got no response, but she was sure someone was listening. Someone was _always_ listening.

"I'll be back here later, in about four hours," Cass concluded, giving Kaydin one last stroke on his muzzle, before leaving the stables.

As she headed back to her room, all Cass could do was hope that this would work. That it _had _worked so far. When she reached her room, Cass shut the door and sat on the floor with her back up against it. But not before she'd grabbed another piece of paper and charcoal though.

She began her next task as quickly as she could. Sketching out her memory of the stables, Cass worked on the detail of the picture. It took her mind away from the impending conflict, but more than that, it was her way of telling the Knights where the meeting would be held whilst maintaining their ruse of an argument.

She'd been drawing for an hour when a knock at her door startled her. Briefly, Cass wondered who it would be- a Knight or a plotter? Either option required her to wear a mask, so she supposed that it didn't really matter how she opened the door- so long as she was playing the part. Before Cass stood though, she scribbled two little words below the picture.

Hiding her drawing behind her back, Cass pulled the door open and stared out into the corridor with a hard expression. A Knight stood before her, tall and wearing that usually understanding look of his.

"Cass-" he began, but she didn't let him finish.

"Dagonet, leave me alone!" she shouted.

But as she did, Cass held up the image in her hands for him to see. His eyes rolled over her drawing, and she saw that he understood.

"All I want to do is talk," Dagonet replied calmly.

"_No_, Dagonet."

Cass pointed at the words she'd just written. _**Three hours. **_And Dagonet nodded his understanding.

"Just leave me alone. All of you! I just need some time on my own!"

With that, she slammed the door in Dagonet's face. Her breathing was heavy as she slid her back down the door again. _This is it. Three hours. You can do it. You _can, Cass told herself over and over, just to see if she could make herself believe it. She hadn't convinced herself by the time that her three hours were up; and by the time she walked on her way to the stables, Cass almost felt as if she was on her death march.

It was the middle of the day, and yet, strangely, the stables and the area around were empty. It was sign. Good or bad, Cass couldn't guess, but she hoped that the lack of people was the plotters' doing- and not the Knights'. That would make their involvement far too obvious to the plotters. She stepped inside the stables cautiously, perhaps too cautiously. But as soon as Cass did, the door slammed shut behind her.

She jumped and turned only to find that there was very little light in the stables now, and she could barely see the figure as it stood in the doorway._ They must have blocked the windows, _she thought grimly. All Cass knew was that the silhouette of the someone before her was about a foot taller than her and he was at least twice as wide as her shoulders. Cass took a deep breath and tried to make herself feel strong.

"So you want to help us, do you?" she heard a voice on her right say.

It was a voice that she'd heard before the second man she'd heard speak to her. A voice that was very familiar to her by now. _Convince them. Keep this going until you know how many there are. Because there are at least four. Make sure they're all here._

"Yes," Cass replied to the silhouette.

"I do."

"And to what do we owe this very sudden change of heart?" Cass heard the woman's voice say from far away, presumably the other side of the stables it seemed.

"Some things were said. And I didn't like them."

She paused and then said, "I... I understand what you meant... About the way Arthur acts."

"Sickening, isn't it?" the first voice she'd heard sneered at her.

Cass nodded, but then remembered that they probably couldn't see her as much as she couldn't see them. _It's not like they're going to have night-vision goggles or something_, she thought, and then tutted at herself. Why did her brain always come up with odd things like that when she should be thinking seriously?

"Yes," Cass answered bluntly.

"So... Yes. Anyway, I want to help."

"We told you we'd get in touch with you when it was time," the second voice chipped in.

"When events-"

"Yes, I know. But I wanted to let you know of my... decision. I have a condition though."

"Oh really?" the first voice asked, his voice suspicious.

"Tristan doesn't get hurt. Whatever happens, Tristan stays alive and unharmed," Cass replied.

_This wouldn't be believable without a condition. They must know that I love Tristan- how much I'd do for him, _Cass thought, reminding herself to keep up this charade. _Still no sign of the third man, though._ And that thought remained prevalent in her mind.

"Why would you want that as your condition? Isn't the reason you're here because you fought with him and the other Knights?" the woman asked, suddenly quite doubtful of Cass' motives.

_Crap... Shit... Shit, shit, shit, shit,_ Cass thought, glad that they couldn't see the anxiety flitting across her face.

But, thinking quickly, Cass replied, "It's Arthur that I'm angry with. Even if I did... fight... with Tristan; I still love him... That's my condition, he remains unharmed," she repeated.

There was a long pause and it almost made it seem like they considering her condition.

"You see, I don't actually think that we need to accept that condition," the third male voice put in.

_So they are all here. Wait, what does it matter that they're all here? The Knights and I never set up a signal or anything. They're just coming in here regardless. I hope_, she added with a hint of worry at why her friends had not made their surprise entrance yet. But Cass turned back to his words that worried her far more than the Knights not barging into the stables just yet.

"But I just... Don't you understand, I said I'd help you if-"

"The thing is, _girl_, that you were going to help us anyway; whether you want to or not really makes no difference," the woman answered.

"You really aren't in a position to making any conditions."

"Personally, I thought she was smarter than this."

Cass was seething. It seemed that they were determined to make this hard for her whether she was willing to help or not. _What does it matter if I try to be polite to them now? The Knights will be here soon._

"If that's how you feel, I'll just leave," Cass replied, some anger seeping into her voice.

She felt a hand from behind her grip her shoulder. _Shit_, she thought again.

"No, you won't," another man's voice said.

Cass blinked. She'd heard that voice before; though she couldn't recall from where. It wasn't one of the three male plotters; but it was someone else that she knew. She wanted him to speak again, just so that she might have some hope at figuring out who this man was. She just _knew_ that she'd heard his voice somewhere before.

"Take your hand off me," Cass muttered, hoping that the newest voice would be the one to answer her.

"Not yet."

"What the Hell is that supposed to mean?" Cass bit back before she could stop herself.

"I'll let you go when we're finished... talking," the man that she knew she knew replied.

That rather significant pause made Cass blanch, though it was too dark in the stables for anyone to notice. She tried to shrug the man's hand from her shoulder, but it wouldn't budge.

"Get. Off. Of. Me."

Still, the hand did not draw back from her.

"Listen, I didn't come here for any of this shit. Because if you're not willing to accept my condition or at least tell me what this plan is so I can prepare myself for it then I suggest that you-"

Cass never got to make her suggestion though, because she was interrupted by the second man's voice.

"You came here to talk to us and you will do as we tell you, when we tell you."

"Obviously. Yet you haven't told me _anything_," Cass retorted.

"If you want me to do as you say, you're going to have to tell me something sometime."

"Look girl, it is not for you decide what we do or do not tell you or order you to do. We are the ones giving the orders. We are the ones that are in control."

Light flooded into the dark building and all inside squinted as their eyes tried to adjust to the sudden change. The door was flung open, the outside barging its own entrance into the stables. Just as the Knights now did.

The Knights had known that they had only one chance to take the plotters by surprise like this; and they had wanted to wait until Cass emerged from the stables before moving in to take them. But as time had worn on and Cass had not stepped out, Arthur had made the decision that they should enter. Cass couldn't help but smile as she saw the Knights, her friends, in the doorway.

But she didn't have time to dwell on the moment as she felt the hand on her shoulder release and heard one of the men shout, "The bitch betrayed us!"

Galahad and Bors had bows raised and pointed at the plotters. The others held their weapons ready to fight against the plotters. But none of the Knights made a move. Because at that point, one of the plotter's grabbed Cass and held her in front of him. As he put a knife to her throat, Cass froze.

She'd always known that her being hurt could be a possibility. She hadn't been expected to be used as a hostage though._ Don't look weak, Cass. Don't make the Knights have any reason to see you as weak. Let them do their job. Don't be any more of a distraction._ But it didn't stop Cass from being scared. _Really_ scared. She realised then that all those thoughts were, were her trying only to think about anything that _wasn't_ the knife at her throat.

"It's over. Let Cass go and we will be lenient," Arthur said to the five figures behind Cass.

"If we let her go, all you'll do is kill us," the man holding Cass spat out.

"You will not be killed if you release her-" Arthur began.

"Your fate is not looking so good if you don't however," Gawain added, as he strengthened his grip on his axes.

Cass felt the knife press into her throat slightly and she could not hold in her shap gasp.

One of Arthur's eyebrows rose and he gave the smallest of nods to Galahad. It was all that the Knight needed to let loose the arrow that strained his bowstring. The man tried to run as he saw what was going to happen and Cass felt the knife slip from her throat. It was only still at her chest when the arrow met its mark in the skull of the man behind Cass. But as the force of the arrow brought his body to the ground, his hand swept backwards. Metal sliced skin. And Cass knew no more.

**Author's Note: Hey guys. :D Don't hate me, eh? :) I'll try not to leave you guys hanging for too long. ;)**

**Kit xx**


	51. Wanting Information

Very little light found its way into the building, but the three could make out the shapes in the dark. They were accustomed to hiding in the shadows, but here they were trapped behind them. Separated from each other, they could only wait in the cold, semi-blackness for their fate to be decided. It stank too. Of everything that a person wouldn't want to think about, from vomit to human faeces.

But through the darkness, Rosach saw a light. He squinted as his eyes attempted to adjust to the glow emanating from that small candle's flame. The small candle that lit up Lancelot's face. _Finally_, Rosach thought. He hadn't wanted to see the Knight's face- it was just another reminder that their plot had failed. But he had been expecting a visit from one of the Knights since he'd been locked up in this hole of a building. _And what's that been, one, two, three days?_ he wondered.

Lancelot stood for a moment, just staring at the man in chains before him. He watched as the man's dirty face looked coldly back at him. It was Lancelot who spoke first though, his voice echoing through the dark.

"Your plot failed."

_Like I need the curly-haired flirt to tell me we _failed, Rosach thought as he glared the Knight. As the man gave no response, Lancelot continued.

"And you're clearly not going anywhere; so why don't we have a nice little talk about what you thought you were doing?"

It wasn't a question; more of an order really. But Rosach replied anyway, despite that fact.

"Didn't your little friend tell you enough?" he snapped almost sarcastically at the Knight.

Lancelot's jaw clenched at the mention of Cass.

"I'd like to hear it from the horse's mouth, so to speak," Lancelot replied, trying to keep control of himself.

"So you realised that we never actually told her anything about our actual plans then?" Rosach laughed back.

"You gave her enough to let us bring you in here. Some of you anyway," the Knight added, referring to the deaths of the plotter who had been killed in his attempt to flee from the Knights, and the other, who had been the one to take Cass hostage.

"Perhaps," Rosach said quietly.

"But at least the little bitch got what she deserved."

Lancelot's fist clenched in anger and he replied in a calm voice, "She's not dead."

"Really? Not yet then. Did you see all that blood? It won't be long," Rosach put in teasingly.

"Actually, she's going to be fine. She _is_ perfectly fine. You failed in having her killed as much as you failed in having Arthur killed."

The man let a silence grow before adding, "Left her a nasty scar though, didn't we?"

Lancelot said nothing to that. What could he say? He knew that the man was just trying to bait him. The problem was- it was working. And he knew that the man was right; Cass would have a large scar because of that dead man's knife.

"Good. It'll remind everyone of the traitor she is."

That was it for Lancelot; he'd had enough of the man insulting Cass. He would have been angry at normal insults, but when Cass had been hurt in making sure that he and the others- Arthur especially- were safe from their plot, it was too much.

Lancelot's fist collided with the chained man's jaw as he spat back, "You are the traitor, not her."

After a while, Rosach merely laughed back at Lancelot's fury, ignoring the blood flowing freely from his newly-broken nose.

"_She_ was loyal even after you threatened her safety."

"-That just makes her stupid."

"And thinking like _that_- thinking that led you to believe that Arthur needed to die- is the reason that you're in here. And it's the reason that you'll be here for a _very_ long time."

With that, Lancelot left Rosach to face the dark and cold alone, with only his almost manic laughter for company. For his part, Lancelot left without any type of the response that he'd wanted; but he _was_ satisfied by the spatters of blood on his hand. _Now _that_ had been deserved_, Lancelot thought as he headed to the tavern, where all but three of them had convened.

Dagonet sat in the small room in the infirmary and watched the two. The unconscious woman and the Knight by her side, as if he were guarding her. Just days ago, their roles had been reversed, and it had been Tristan that lay unconscious. But now, both Dagonet and the protective Knight beside Cass had to wait for her to wake.

She _would_ wake, after all; her wound was not deep enough to fatally injure her. And they were all relieved by that. But it was close. Dagonet thought that it may have been the shock that held her still in her unconscious state, but he wasn't sure. He watched as Tristan stood over her, his usually masked face etched into the frown that had been present since he'd seen since Cass brought in like this.

Of course, when the Knight's had carried Cass into the room, bloody and unconscious as she was, Tristan had not just been frowning. He been angry; truly, truly angry. It was one of the only times that the Knights had ever seen him that way. And, had they not known Tristan; no, even though they knew Tristan, it was still horrible and frightening to see.

The two Knights waited where they were for three more hours. The only movement between them had been when Dagonet had tried, once again, to convince Tristan that he should sit down because of his own injuries. Stubborn as he always was, Tristan refused, no matter how much Dagonet had insisted that it was better for him to sit by Cass' side rather than stand and further injure himself.

"We don't need both of you unconscious," Dagonet had reasoned, though it still had made no difference.

But after that three hours, was when two men saw Cass' brow scrunch into a frown, her eyes flickering under their closed lids. Both men's eyes were glued to the woman as she slowly roused.

Cass woke to the pain that she had subconsciously been feeling though her eyes had been closed and her body would not wake. She let out a pained sigh as her blue eyes opened to see the two Knights standing beside her. Then Cass found that her fingers were locked in Tristan's and seemed to have been there for some time.

"What happened?" she asked, her pain as evident in her voice as it was written over her face.

It was Dagonet that answered her. And Cass noticed that Tristan's hand tightened its grip on hers as he spoke, clearly showing how uncomfortable he felt about the situation.

"When Galahad killed the man holding you, it knocked him backward and he cut you quite badly with his knife."

"Oh," she replied quietly.

"Did they...? Did you...?"

"Two of the five are dead. We took the others to be questioned."

Cass nodded, but a sharp cry ripped from her lips. Pain flared through her body from the line where the knife had made its mark in her skin.

"Careful," Dagonet said with a frown almost deep enough to match Tristan's.

"I had to stitch the wound closed. Try not to move too much."

Cass was going to nod in response, but she didn't want to feel that pain again, and so, instead, she answered, "Okay. Erm, thanks..."

"I'm just going to check the stitches," Dagonet said as he moved toward her and started to lift some of the bandages wrapped around her ribs.

It was only then that Cass scrunched her eyes closed out of embarrassment, as she realised that she was half-naked in front of the two men. Her face darkened with her familiar blush despite the pain she felt as Dagonet moved the bandages. Cass was just glad that she had her modern underwear to cover herself- it was much more secure than the Roman underwear- not that that made her embarrassment any less.

"Cass?"

Her eyes opened and found Tristan. She saw the worry there immediately and the question on the tip of his tongue.

"I'm fine... Just thinking about something stupid."

Tristan tilted his head and waited for her to continue, but she didn't. Cass felt a rush of cold air on her chest as Dagonet pulled back the last covering of her bandage. She wanted to look at the wound, wanted to see what was troubling her so. But as she tried to lift her head, she figured that she must have moved some of the muscles that the stitched cut ran through- or she would think so after the blinding pain that shot through her dispersed.

Tristan's other hand went to her shoulder as Cass' head hit the table again. Her breathing was heavy, and all she could think was, _that was stupid._ But when the pain had lessened, only slightly; Cass spoke to try calming Tristan. She knew all too well what it was like to see the one she loved in pain. And by the look in his eyes, Tristan was taking it about as well as she had done.

"I guess my pain threshold's not so good," Cass said, as if trying to make a joke of the situation.

But secretly, she was thinking, _what I wouldn't kill for some drugs. Morphine, codeine- even paracetamol would be better than _this. _How the Hell did Tristan manage with _three_ wounds? And he _still _kept trying to get up_. Tristan stared at her, eyes deep brown pools of concern that, before she had met him, had never been an emotion that they held for long.

"What does it look like," Cass asked, hoping that one of the two men would answer, since she could not see for herself.

Dagonet and Tristan exchanged glances, before the taller of the two answered simply, "It will heal."

"That's not what I meant..." she sighed.

"How big is it?"

She didn't know why it bothered her so much. Well, she did, truthfully, but she didn't tell them. She wondered whether Tristan and Dagonet might think her reason for asking was vain; but that wasn't the reason that whatever scar would be there bothered her at all. It was more complicated than that to Cass.

With a sigh, Dagonet held his fingers up to show the length of about eight inches. Cass grimaced. _Great_, she thought. But as she imagined what that scar might look like, she was reminded that she had seen far worse lining Tristan's torso.

"It will heal," Dagonet repeated on seeing the look on her face.

She tried to offer up a believing smile, but it was forced and false-looking. Both Knights noticed, but neither commented on their observation. Once Dagonet was finished checking her stitches, he started to replace the bandages to cover what they saw to be a very angry wound. Cass winced as he reworked the bandages, and Dagonet paused for a moment before continuing.

"Thank you," Cass said when Dagonet had finished.

He gave a nod of his head as his response and moved back to give Tristan and Cass their space.

"Cass-" Tristan began.

But Cass wouldn't let him speak just yet, and interrupted, "Why aren't you sitting down?"

Tristan blinked. _Why is she asking me _that_? Surely, there are other things more important? _And the voice in the back of his mind kept putting in, _like the fact that you almost let her get killed._

"I don't need to," he replied simply.

"You do. You-"

"I'm fine."

"Tristan, I swear I won't talk to you until you sit down. I won't have you unconscious again."

Tristan's mouth opened as if he wanted to respond, but as he saw the stubborn look on her face set in, he gave a sigh instead.

Dagonet brought the seat that Cass had sat in when the situation had been reversed, over to where Tristan stood, and, with a crooked smile, said, "I've been trying to get him to sit down for days. It's a good job that he listens to you."

Tristan's eyes shot to the taller Knight, giving him an almost annoyed glare. But both of them missed the change in Cass' expression.

"Wait... _Days_?"

The men looked back at her.

"How long have I been...?"

"Two days," Tristan answered, his voice low but almost soft.

"Oh," Cass replied.

"I didn't think that it had been that long."

Tristan gave a nod and finally sat down on the chair that Dagonet had provided.

"Thank you," she said, giving Tristan's hand a squeeze.

He almost smiled then, but it vanished as Cass spoke again.

"I think I'd like to go back to sleep now," Cass said wearily, tired of the pain pulsing from where the knife had sliced her skin.

Tristan looked to Dagonet, who nodded in return. And the last thing Cass felt before she closed her eyes again and sleep took over her, was the soft kiss that Tristan placed on her temple. Tristan watched the woman he loved slip back into sleep and, once he was sure she was oblivious to Dagonet and himself, he stood.

"Tristan, you should-"

A glare from Tristan silenced him though.

"She was never supposed to get hurt," he whispered, his voice so low that Dagonet strained to hear him.

But he did not strain to hear the anger in his voice.

"I know. None of us wanted that."

"Then why did we let her do it?" Tristan bit back, his anger even deeper in his voice.

_Why did _I_ let her do it?_ he questioned himself.

"We couldn't have stopped her if we'd tried. She's almost as stubborn as you, remember?"

Tristan sighed, and eventually gave a small nod.

"If I'd just been there-"

"Then Cass wouldn't have been able to focus because she'd have been too worried about you."

Tristan stared down at Cass, her face calm as her dreams held her mind captive. Dagonet was right. But that still didn't stop him from blaming himself for what had happened.

**Author's Note: So I wrote this today after spending twelve hours at sixthform today- *dies*. -.- Oh, and then I had to do a mock drama exam- which I was petrified about because... well, it wasn't going so great in practises... But it actually turned out okay with the exception of a lighting fault and a bit of placard confusion... Sorry for the random information here that you really didn't need to know by the way. :P**

**But I hope you like anyway. :) I've already started the next chapter too so it shouldn't be too long before that one pops up too. :)**

**Oh, and bloomin' heck! Over 300 reviews? Seriously, thank you guys SO much! I really, really appreciate all the reviews, favourites and watches! :D ^^**

**Kit xx**


	52. It Acts As A Reminder

Two more days past, and the Knights had been able to glean no information from any of the plotters. It seemed odd though, as the Knights were giving their best to get something out of them. The reason that the Knights suspected though, was that Tristan was usually the one to extract information. The problem was; Cass wouldn't let him. Not until she was sufficiently sure that his own wounds were healed at least.

As Galahad and Gawain headed to the infirmary, Gawain was considering ways to convince Cass that Tristan, like the other Knights, was more used to healing more quickly than she would be. For his part, Galahad had purposely been avoiding the infirmary since Cass had been sent there.

He felt extremely guilty that she was even in the infirmary. _It was my arrow_, he thought, a frown that Gawain did not notice creasing his features. No one really noticed the frown that Galahad had been wearing since he had shot that man; they merely assumed that he was in one of his 'I hate everything Roman and about this place' moods. But he wasn't.

Galahad just kept running the event over in his head, each time trying to find something that he could have done differently that wouldn't have resulted in Cass getting hurt as she had. If only they'd been there sooner. If only he'd shot the man elsewhere. If only he'd been in a different position when he'd shot the man. These were all things that he'd considered, but they did nothing to change the reality of what had actually happened.

As Gawain pushed the door to the infirmary open, Galahad's grimace went unnoticed. It appeared that it was finally time for him to face Cass, and he supposed that he'd put it off long enough. Something in the back of his mind was still wondering if Cass blamed him for her getting hurt. Because _he_ definitely blamed himself.

When the two men entered the room, Galahad hung back, almost in the doorway. He saw that Cass was sitting upright and covered over with a thick blanket; feathery pillows piled up behind her that she seemed to have sunk into. She didn't look half as bad as Galahad had been expecting- or rather, half as bad as he had been imagining. In fact, to his surprise, Cass was smiling at the arrival of he and Gawain.

"It's about time you two came to visit me. I was starting to think you didn't like me anymore," Cass said with a slightly lopsided smile.

"Not like you? Never," Gawain answered returning her smile.

Galahad stayed silent, but tried to force a smile. It was seen through by everyone present. So Gawain, who still stood next to the sullen-looking Knight, caught him in a head lock and rubbed his knuckle against Galahad's head.

As the younger Knight struggled to free himself, Gawain said, "Cheer up, pup, we didn't come here to depress them."

Galahad wriggled free of his friend's grip with a small smile on his face at the boisterous play fighting, but it faded fast.

"Actually, seeing you wasn't the only reason we came, Cass," Gawain began, turning attention away from Galahad.

"You see, we aren't having much luck with the plotters. We need Tristan."

Cass frowned. But after a moment she turned her head to the Knight beside her. They shared a look, one that seemed to insinuate they'd been previously discussing something about this, and eventually, Tristan squeezed Cass' hand and stood.

They had talked about this situation; over and over in fact, because of how stubborn Cass was being. Tristan would have gone long before Gawain had called for him; he couldn't wait to get his hands on the people who had so tormented the woman he loved. He would have gone long before, that is, if Cass hadn't been threatening that she would head straight out after him if he did. And nothing he could do or say would stop her there.

But as time was passing, and the other Knights were getting nowhere in their quest for information, Tristan had spoken with Cass and explained things to her. Like the fact that, as a Knight, he was used to being injured and having to recover quickly. He was fine. And felt increasingly useless as she insisted he stay in the infirmary. Cass had understood then, and so now, it was no surprise when Tristan left with Gawain, placing a kiss to her forehead before he went.

It was a surprise to her, however, that Galahad remained in the room. Cass tilted her head to the side and looked at him. He seemed to be doing anything that he could to avoid her eyes; for instance, at that moment, Galahad was fiddling with a loose string on the tunic he wore.

"Is everything alright, Galahad?" Cass asked, a small smile present on her features.

Galahad let a long sigh slip out from between his lips. He'd been holding that in since Cass had been injured. The Knight ran his fingers through his dark curls and finally looked up at Cass.

"I'm sorry," he answered in a quiet voice.

Cass frowned.

"You're sorry? What are you sorry for?" she asked a little confusedly.

Galahad sighed again and then explained, "I'm sorry for getting you hurt. I- I didn't mean- I should have-"

"Wait, what? Galahad, you're not the reason I got hurt," Cass replied with even more confusion infused in her voice.

"If I'd just aimed somewhere else, or been in a different place when I'd shot him this wouldn't have happened," the Knight continued, as if he hadn't heard Cass speak.

"No Galahad, listen-"

"If I'd have just-"

"Just stop!" Cass said, loud enough to make the youngest Knight falter.

"It's like talking to Tristan about this," she added under her breath before continuing.

"Listen, _this-_" she gestured to the bandages wrapped over her chest.

"-is not your fault. It's not. If it's anyone's fault, other than the bastard who did it, it's mine. _I_ was stubborn enough to convince everyone that I had to go in there. _I _was the one who insisted that it was the only way. I knew the risks when I did those things."

"It's still my-" Galahad began, but Cass interrupted him.

"If you hadn't done as you did, I'd most probably be dead. I'll take a scar and some pain over that _any_ day. So screw your sorry, and let me say thank you."

The curly-haired, young Knight stared at the woman who was even younger than he, but still spoke as one who was older than her age. She'd literally stunned him. But as her serious stare turned into a small, caring smile, Galahad couldn't help but return it, if a little lopsidedly. He bobbed his head to her.

The two talked for a while before Galahad left and he told her of what little change there had been in the tavern in her absence- bar the fact that she was missing, of course. He spoke of how Bors and Vanora had had another little fight, but had already made up and were back in each other's arms.

Cass, of course, had already heard this from Vanora, but she found it nice to hear another viewpoint. And she'd admit that she'd missed the young Knight's, for the most part, good humour. Galahad gave Cass another smile as he bade her goodbye, feeling all the more better about his visit than he had on arriving at the infirmary.

When Cass saw the door shut behind Galahad, she leant her head back into a pillow behind her and sighed. _Why does everyone think me so fragile? Sure, I'm injured, but I'll get better. If I..._

"Urgh..." she said aloud; making a frustrated sound that was heard only by her.

_How am I _ever_ going to convince them that I should be able to fight with them when I'm better?_ She grimaced and sat in the room, trying to figure out a way that she would ever be able to convince Arthur and the others to let her join them. Only one thing stood out to her- and it wasn't a method that Cass had particularly wanted to use. But Cass pushed those thoughts from her mind as she remembered that none of that could be brought up until she was healed.

She waited for what felt like hours for someone to return to the infirmary, and, having nothing else to do, entwined the same couple of curls into plaits and then unravelled them again almost a hundred times. Cass came to the conclusion that she was going to have to ask someone to get her paper and charcoal from her room before they left her alone for so long again.

After she had un-braided all of her curls, and had just finished the first plait of the next set, Tristan opened the door. Cass beamed at the sight of him, and he moved to her side quickly.

She took his hand and looked up into his deep brown eyes as she asked, "Did they say much?"

Tristan shrugged and answered simply, "They will."

Just as Cass was about to say something in response, Tristan's free hand reached out to lift the single plait amongst her curls. One of his eyebrows rose and that slight spark glittered in his eyes as he looked at Cass questioningly.

She blushed slightly and explained, "I was... _really_ bored. I think I plaited my hair over a hundred times."

"It suits you," he said quietly.

Then Tristan leant down to the woman sitting up in the bed and their lips met in a soft kiss. Cass smiled as her cheeks burned red. When Tristan pulled back from her, the smile remained on her face- and so did the blush. The Knight sat down at her side, resuming the post where he'd been seen almost every moment since she'd been injured- except for the hours just gone, that is.

"So..." Cass started, turning her head to look at Tristan.

"What... What _did_ they say?"

"Cass..." Tristan began, almost as if he was reluctant to say what he'd learned.

"Please, Tristan. I'd like to know."

They stared at each other stubbornly for a while, before Tristan gave a long sigh. His free hand moved to his jaw where his thumb gently stroked over his beard.

"They barely said anything... Mostly just cursing you," he answered eventually.

Cass wasn't surprised by that. She knew that they'd hate her about as much as, if not more than, they hated Arthur. About as much as she hated them.

"I guess they're just realising that they picked the wrong person to trust," she replied, a small smile still vaguely clinging to the corners of her lips.

Tristan mimicked her and gave a small nod.

"They were acting as if they had no idea that you were going to betray them. You fooled them well."

"Perhaps I should have been an actress instead of an artist then," Cass suggested.

Tilting her chin up, Tristan replied with a shake of his head. She frowned at him questioningly.

"With that blush?"

Cass smiled again, but her blush inevitably crept its way back up to the surface of her skin.

She playfully hit his arm and murmured, "Shut up."

Cass and Tristan sat together in silence for a long time after that. It might have seemed odd to others, but to them, it was perfect silence. Calm silence. A while later, after darkness had started to fall through cracks in the room's curtained window, Cass gave Tristan's hand a squeeze. He tilted his head enquiringly at her.

"Erm... Tristan?"

He waited for her to continue.

"This is weird asking you this... But, erm... Do you think there's any way that we could convince Dagonet to let me have a bath?"

One of Tristan's eyebrows rose at her question. It had clearly not been what he had been expecting her to ask.

"It's only because... Well, I don't think I've ever gone this long without bathing, and, I just... I don't know; I just feel like I really need one... I mean, not that you really wanted to know that," she finished, a blush dyeing her face red as she realised what she was talking about.

Tristan shook his head, almost with a laugh, and stood, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"I'll ask," he said, the corner of his lips tilting upward into a small smile.

Cass watched him leave and wanted to smack her head against the door he'd just closed. _You're such an idiot, Cass_, she scolded herself as she let her head fall back onto the pillow behind her.

She couldn't really believe that she'd just had a conversation about bathing with Tristan. Suffice to say, it was not the most enjoyable conversation she would remember having with the quiet Knight. Little did she know though, that it would only get worse- and more embarrassing- as the evening progressed.

When Tristan returned, Cass' brow creased into a frown. The Knight was carrying a big metal tub and, as he set it down on the floor before the bed, a maid followed him into the room and poured steaming water inside it.

After she left the room, Cass said, "Tristan, this isn't necess- I mean, I'm sure I can make it to the-"

But she was silenced by Tristan's shaking head.

Through strands of dark hair that had fallen in front of his face, he stared at her, and eventually said, "You won't be able to get yourself in and out of the water."

Cass' frown deepened, but their conversation paused as another maid came in bearing another basin full of hot water.

"You can't be serious?" she asked as the woman left.

Tristan gave a simple nod in reply.

"But- but wait, if I can't get in and out of the water at the bathhouses, what difference will it be here?"

Cass had a feeling that she already knew the answer before she'd finished the question, but still, she waited for Tristan to confirm her thoughts.

"I'll be here to help you."

Cass' mouth fell open. It was the answer she'd expected, but she still couldn't stop herself from flushing a deep red colour. Yes, she loved Tristan, and yes, she knew that she'd end up naked in front of him _eventually_ for one reason or another. But this was certainly _not_ the way she imagined Tristan first seeing her naked.

She honestly had no idea how to respond to what Tristan had just said and ended up just sitting where she was, watching the two maids walk in and out until the tub was full of steaming water. The last maid left the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Tristan and a beetroot-red-faced Cass alone. Tristan didn't move from his place beside the tub; it was almost as if he was waiting for Cass to say something.

But when she didn't, he said, "We need to take the bandage off while you bathe."

Cass looked over to him, her expression blank, but her blushing skin a dead giveaway of how she felt.

"Um, okay," was all that she replied.

Tristan moved over to her then, and helped her sit up away from the supportive pillows behind her. Cass let the blanket covering her drop from where she held it as she felt him undo the tie that held her bandage together. A flash of pain shot through her and Cass grimaced. It made Tristan pause.

"I'm alright," she said quietly, signalling for him to continue.

Tristan cautiously unwound the bandage, careful not to knock Cass and hurt her further. When he removed it, Cass couldn't help but look down at the wound that held her so bedridden.

"Oh," she whispered as she stared at the scar.

The wound was still red, so red that it looked angry. It was very big and very noticeable, just as she had thought it would be. But looking at the real thing was much worse than her imaginings of it were. Looking at it made her realise how horrible it really was.

Cass looked around as she felt Tristan's hand on her shoulder. He was staring at her face concernedly, but she didn't have the heart to fake a smile. She merely gave him a nod and allowed him to help her from the bed. Every little movement sent pangs of pain through her body, but gritting her teeth was all that Cass could do to stop from letting the feeling leak too much into her features.

That was when they reached the side of the tub, and they both paused. Tristan, because he was waiting for Cass' permission to do anything further, and Cass, because she was so unnerved about having to remove her underwear- the last pieces of clothing covering her body- in front of Tristan.

_This is _so_ not how I was imagining this_, she thought with a grimace. But Cass gave the Knight another small nod, allowing him to further help her. She didn't want to turn around and see Tristan taking her clothes off. She didn't want to turn around and let him see how red her face was. She didn't want him to notice how she was holding her breath.

But Tristan was quick and careful in his actions as he tried to spare Cass from the embarrassment that it was so obvious she felt. He stood behind her then, when she was completely naked, but he did not look at her. He refused to take advantage of her like that.

Instead, Tristan looked at her hands as he grasped hold of them, helping to support her as she stepped into the tub. Slowly, Tristan helped Cass lower herself into the warm water, and when she was settled into it, he released her. Tristan stepped back from her and the tub, making sure that she could see that he wasn't looking at her.

It took a moment for Cass to notice that that was the case, and when she did, a sort of half-smile played upon her lips. She felt almost overwhelmed that he had thought to do that when he so obviously didn't have to. It just proved to be another reason that Cass realised why she loved him so much.

For a while, Cass shut her eyes and let the warm water soothe her aching body. Let it wash away her troubles. But eventually, her troubles crept back to her in the constant form of pain from her chest. She opened her eyes again and looked over to Tristan. He stood in exactly the same place as he had when she'd shut her eyes.

"So..."

Tristan looked around at the sound of Cass' voice, his eyes immediately finding hers.

"It's quite a big scar, isn't it?" she finished quietly.

It wasn't meant as a question, but Tristan tilted his head to the side in concern for the woman in the tub. The pain in her voice had been clear and he hated the sound of it. He wanted to go over to her; he wanted to take hold of her and make sure that she knew that everything was alright. That she would be fine.

But she continued and weakly tried to joke, "I suppose I just fit in a bit more now... You know... With the scars?"

Tristan frowned at her attempt at humour. He didn't understand why she was trying to make a joke out of this, but, at the same, he did understand. Some of the others had acted like this early on in their service to Rome; it hadn't taken them long to discover that this was unavoidable. But it should have been avoidable for Cass.

"I'd rather you didn't get any more," Tristan replied quietly.

With a ragged sigh, Cass answered, "Me too... But- but it's not the end of the world. It's- it's just a scar."

The tone in her voice would have alerted him if not for the fact that he was watching as tears started to fall down her cheeks. Cass tried to hold them back, but she couldn't. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop crying. But as she continued trying to stop the tears from falling, Cass saw Tristan step back over to her. Her face contorted and twinges of pain hit her body as the Knight helped her to her feet.

Pulling the towel one of the maids had left from the side of the bed, Tristan enveloped it around Cass. She was crying into his chest, wrapped in his arms before she even realised what was really happening. Neither knew how long they stayed that way, her crying and him just holding her. But they did. They just stayed that way until Cass managed to get her breathing, and her tears, under control.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't- I don't know why I'm crying," she choked out eventually.

Tristan ran a hand over her dark curls and Cass lifted her head from where it rested on his shoulder so that she could look at him. Tears still clouded her vision, but she knew that she needed to say what she was thinking.

"Tristan. I just- I... I feel stupid..."

She paused and shook her head slightly.

"But it's like, they couldn't just... they couldn't just leave me with the memories of their stupid plot... They had to- they had to give me this so that I'd always remember," Cass finished through gritted teeth.

She put her head back down on Tristan's shoulder as more tears began to flow. But Tristan wasn't going to let her keep crying as she was. He couldn't. So Tristan tilted Cass' head back up to face him, and gently placed a kiss on her temple.

"No matter how many scars you have, and no matter the reason that they're there; you will always be beautiful to me. Always."


	53. Grin And Bear It

After a week of being bedridden, Dagonet had decided that he would finally allow Cass to leave the infirmary. Needless to say, Cass was pleased. She was getting rather sick of looking at the one little room and its little contents. But more than that, she wanted to go out, she wanted things to be back to how they were before the plotters had appeared and taken control of her life. She wanted her freedom back.

And when Cass sat, leaning against Tristan in the tavern, things did almost feel normal again. Tristan's arm rested lightly around her shoulder as she sat, smiling. Just listening to the usual banter between the Knights and Arthur was like music to Cass' ears. Though the plotters were still alive, and no more information had been gleaned about their plan, Cass wasn't thinking about that. She was just happy to finally have things the way they should be.

But, of course, Cass' injury meant that she couldn't get back to normal truly. Because she couldn't train with Knights. She couldn't ride Kaydin. She couldn't even help Vanora in the tavern. Not that the Knights would have allowed her to do anything but sit with them on her first night back out in the tavern.

In fact, it seemed that they were determined to have Cass drink until she couldn't walk straight anymore. Not that her walking was going all that well as it was, what with her wound so troubling her still. And though she did drink some, Cass refused to accept most of the drinks being passed her way. Since she was so enjoying finally being free of everything, Cass wanted to be able to remember that night as she didn't the end of her birthday.

It was only when the group at the corner table were the only people left in the tavern that Tristan walked Cass away from the building, knowing that Vanora was soon to disperse the others. She was still smiling as he led her back down the familiar route to her room.

"Wait, Tristan, aren't we going back to the infirmary?" she asked, her eyebrows knitting together slightly as she looked sideways at him.

The quiet Knight shook his head, his dark hair brushing against her face slightly. _Wow,_ she thought, her frown softening. _Things really _are_ getting back to normal._ Even through the darkness, the sight of the building made the smile still lingering on her face broaden.

Tristan pushed open the door to the building, and walked with Cass to her room. It almost seemed odd to be looking at her room, she thought, because of all that had changed in the week she had been absent from it. Everything that had changed had changed for the better though, she was sure- even _with_ her injury.

Tristan helped Cass change into the clothes she slept in, her blush rising to her cheeks at the mere mention of it. And when Cass lay down to sleep, Tristan waited in that seat by her side. She wouldn't find out until the morning that he stayed there until she woke.

He was asleep, his head resting slightly against the side of the chair when Cass opened her eyes and turned to look at him. She couldn't help but notice how peaceful he looked as he slept. The moment didn't last long though, because as Cass turned to lean on her good side so that she could watch him sleep, the movement caused him to wake. His eyes flickered to Cass as soon as they opened, almost as if he was making sure that she was alright.

"You really are a light sleeper," Cass said quietly, her lips forming into a gentle smile.

Tristan nodded, but he didn't reply; and when she noticed that he wouldn't, Cass continued.

"You stayed."

It wasn't really a question; it was more of an observation. And again, Tristan gave nothing but a nod in response.

"Thanks," she finished, offering him another small smile.

Tristan stood up then, almost startling Cass at the swiftness of the movement. He looked to the door for a moment, and then turned back to Cass. Bending down to her, Tristan placed a soft kiss on her temple.

As he moved back he said, "I have to go."

It was Cass' turn to nod, and when she did, the pain that flashed through her was so little compared to what it had been. She watched him leave, and knew exactly where he was going. There had been something in his eyes as he'd spoke that told her he was going back to where the plotters were held. And something about _that_ bothered her when she really thought about it.

Cass pushed herself up in her bed, until she could finally lean against the head post behind her. It hurt to get there, but Cass tried to put the feeling past her. To grin and bear it, as the saying went. She just wished that there was something that could be done to finish this thing with the plotters. Just so that it would finally be truly over.

That was when Cass had a thought. An idea, really. She didn't know how well it would go down with the Knights, but it was just something that she felt was necessary. And as soon as Dagonet knocked on her door to ask if she wanted to go to breakfast, she bade him to come in and told him of her idea.

At first, he'd frowned at the mere suggestion. But after she'd tried to explain herself, Dagonet started to understand what she was getting at. Cass nodded to the tall Knight as he left her to call the others to a meeting. She turned her attention then to getting dressed.

One of her dresses, the black one, was resting on the back of the chair that Tristan had slept in, and Cass leant over to take hold of it. She winced as her muscles stretched and pain bolted through her; but she made no sound. She simply stopped for a moment, clutching the dress in her hands, and taking a few deep breaths.

At first, Cass found it hard to get out of the clothes she slept in. But, after a twenty minute struggle, she managed to free herself of them and to slip into her dress. Her shoes, however, were a different matter. Getting her feet into them wasn't the issue; tying them was. She tried numerous times, but having to scrunch over her wound as she tried, hurt her more than she could bear.

So instead, Cass waited, with her feet in untied boots, anxiously on the edge of her bed for someone to return. She assumed that it would be Tristan to come for her, but she wasn't sure. She just knew that they'd left her so that they might discuss the matter privately.

When the Knights were all convened at the Round Table, Dagonet told them all that Cass had asked to be able to see the plotters and everyone had thought twice about it. Especially Tristan. It launched an hour long discussion about whether or not Cass' idea was a good one.

But, as she'd explained her reasons to him, Dagonet realised the possible advantage of Cass seeing the plotters. Because they may not want to give the Knights any information; but Dagonet understood that, with Cass there, they may be more inclined- and angrier- to reveal something to them.

It took a lot of convincing to get the others to see this advantage, but once they had, all of the men left the meeting. Only Tristan and Dagonet headed back to Cass' room, as agreed, though. Cass' blue eyes turned upwards as they entered the room, expectantly pressing them for an answer. Tristan wouldn't meet her gaze for a moment, so Cass instead found her answer in Dagonet, who merely nodded.

She didn't smile at the news- not that either of the men had expected her to. Cass had explained to Dagonet before that this was more for closure than for anything else. That she wanted faces to associate with the shadowy voices that had plagued her so. But she was well aware of the added advantage of what she could do if she was in the room with the plotters. She knew that it might be a way to get information out of them.

Cass sighed and then asked, "I'm sorry, but Tristan, could you help me tie my boots?"

At her asking, Tristan set to the task immediately. He didn't let her know how the fact that she couldn't tie her boots made it obvious- no matter how much she tried to hide it- that she was still feeling the effects of her injury to a great extent. And he didn't let it show how much that bothered him.

But when Tristan was finished, Cass pushed herself from the bed anyway and stood on her still not too steady feet. With a stumble, she thought she would fall. But she didn't though. Because Tristan was there to support her, as he always seemed to be.

"Thanks," she murmured with a small smile.

Cass leant into Tristan's chest as he swept an arm over her shoulder. It was comforting. Supportive. But also quite a protective gesture, and Cass didn't miss that. Neither did Dagonet. With that motion though, the three set off towards where the prisoner's were held.

All the while, Tristan's grip on Cass helped to steady her, though she still didn't know how he was doing it. His wounds had been so much worse than hers and he now seemed fine. He'd convinced her of that days ago, but she still didn't know how he seemed to be so resilient.

In that moment, they arrived outside of the prison. Everyone paused, and Cass took a deep breath. But before the men would let her enter the building, Tristan stopped her. She looked at him quizzically, her brows arching into a frown.

"Before you go in..." Tristan said, but he stopped for a second.

Dagonet picked up where the scout left off, "You know one of them."

Cass blinked.

"Or you've at least met him before," he finished.

"I do? Wait... what do you mean?" she asked blankly, her frown deepening.

"Remember the night Tristan saved you from those two men?"

Cass' nose wrinkled in disgust and she nodded.

"And the next day? When those Romans tried to arrest you?"

"Well yes, but-"

"Their commander, the Roman in charge of that group. He's one of them."

Cass' mouth hung open. She wondered which voice he had been, but moreover, she wondered why he had been involved in the plot against Arthur. He was Roman. Cass guessed that she must have been wrong when she'd assumed that the plotters were not Roman. But it all still really made no sense to her.

She shook her head of those thoughts and answered, "Oh... Right... I didn't really think that I'd have... you know... met any of them..."

"Cass?" Tristan asked, looking down at the woman in his arms.

As she looked back up at Tristan, Cass tried to keep the emotion from her eyes.

"I'm fine. I'll be... fine. It- it doesn't matter."

She knew she would be fine. The man was imprisoned, and he was not getting out any time soon. And it wasn't like she'd known or was friends with him. It wasn't like he'd betrayed her or anything. The only time she'd met him, the man had been completely antagonistic towards her.

So the only reason it bothered Cass so much was because she'd seen him, met him, and had had absolutely no idea that he was one of the plotters. Cass shook her head of those thoughts as she felt Tristan's grip on her tighten just slightly. _Grin and bear it, Cass. Grin and bear it_, she told herself as she forced herself to meet Tristan's gaze once again.

"Can we go in now?" she asked quietly.

The men looked at each other for a second, before Tristan gave Cass a nod and helped her into the building. They walked a little before they reached the first cell in which one of the plotters was held. But it seemed that both Tristan and Dagonet had failed to mention that two of the three, were unconscious.

Cass still wanted to see their faces when she found out though and insisted on looking into their cells. The woman was first, and Cass squinted to see through to where she sat, half-upright and unconscious, against the back wall. Cass gasped when she saw her though and Tristan eyed the woman in his arms confusedly.

"I know her," Cass said in a whisper.

Both Tristan and Dagonet frowned at Cass, and Tristan turned to look back at the woman half-shrouded in darkness. He was trying to place the woman's face but couldn't quite associate it with a memory.

"She's... She was a maid... In the infirmary..."

Realisation dawned on Tristan's face in the form of his rising eyebrows.

"She gave you blankets," he said simply.

"Yeah..." Cass replied blankly, still staring into the cell.


	54. Cousins

It took Cass a minute to push the feelings she felt at this news back under the surface. That she hadn't been expecting to know _one_ of the plotters was one thing, but now she'd found out that she'd met _two _of the plotters. It had taken a while for that to really sink in.

But it did; eventually. And Cass frowned. _How many more of them have I met without realising it? _Cass wondered, before asking Tristan and Dagonet if they'd take her to see the next plotter.

Cass was glad that, when they'd led her to the next cell, she did not recognise the unconscious man that she saw. She did notice though that this man had considerably more bruises and cuts than the woman she'd just seen though. And it seemed to be up to Dagonet to explain that.

"He's more... _resistant_ than the others."

Cass gave a simple nod in return, while she speculated on what exactly the man in the cell had or, rather, _had not_ been saying to earn him such treatment. Whatever it was though, she knew that he probably deserved it.

The next man that the two Knights led her to see, the final plotter, was conscious. Cass stared at the Roman who'd once ordered her to be brought to the same prison that he was to spend the remainder of his days in. And Tristan had practically assured her that they wouldn't be many.

None of the three said anything for a while, and neither did the Roman. He didn't even look up for a long time. But when he did, Cass saw that both of his eyes were black and bruised. She saw that trails of dried blood made a path from a broken nose and split lip. He looked a terrible mess, and yet was still not as bad as the unconscious man that Cass had just seen.

But when he'd looked up, his sharp blue eyes had found Cass' immediately. It had almost taken her aback at the intensity of his gaze, however she remained as steadfast as she could be whilst still leaning against Tristan slightly. Before he said anything, the Roman gave the Knights and Cass a crooked smile that had only recently become gap-toothed. He spat on the floor in Cass' direction. It was meant as a disrespectful gesture, but no one took notice of it.

"You little bitch," he half growled at Cass.

_The_ _fifth_ _voice_. Cass recognised him immediately. _So the Roman only appeared once then_, she surmised.

"So you thought you could betray us-"

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Cass interrupted coolly.

"Why did you do it?" she asked, trying the blunt approach.

The man scoffed at her and seemed reluctant to answer at first. But, eventually, he spoke. And he spoke truthfully.

"You. Arthur. Your Knights- all of you. That day I tried to arrest you, you embarrassed me... _No one_ embarrasses me."

"We _embarrassed_ you? What kind of reason is that to try and assassinate someone?" Cass asked incredulously.

"What did Arthur every really do to you? What did I ever do? What reasons-"

"What could you ever know of my reasons?" he snapped back at her, interrupting Cass.

"You don't even know the half of what you're involved in, little whore," he jeered.

Cass' hand on Tristan's arm was the only thing stopping him from going straight for the Roman. The bars separating them could be opened easily if Tristan wished it, but he respected Cass' restraining arm enough to make no move. _He's just trying to provoke us. Don't bite. Don't bite_, Cass thought as she stared at the plotter in his cell.

"Well why don't you tell me? You've got nothing left to lose now," Cass answered.

A sneer was the first thing that she got in response to that question. A less than polite gesture was the second. But when he finally gave a verbal response, Cass wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Though she was shocked by it. Very much so.

"You don't think that this is over, do you?" he asked with a cruel sideways smile forming on his slightly bloody lips.

Cass blinked. _What do I say to that? _But she didn't have to say anything, because the Roman continued.

"You can't seriously have thought that we were stupid enough to all have come to your stupid little meeting."

Dagonet and Tristan looked at each other for a moment, both of their faces masked and unwilling to show any emotion. Cass didn't look away from the man's cold, mocking gaze though. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"I had no idea that you were such stupid a little whore," he almost laughed at Cass.

"Well don't you worry your pretty little head over it; we've still got someone on the outside who can take _good_ care of you."

Cass literally had to force all emotion from reaching her face as she held the man's amused gaze. But behind the front she was putting up, she wanted to scream. _There's another one? This is supposed to be over... and now... now, there's another one that... that's going to come after _me_?_ she thought. This had certainly not been what she'd wanted to hear.

"Forgive me if I'm not quaking in my boots; but five of you couldn't do much damage. Another dimwit should _not_ be a problem," Cass replied, lying for all that she had.

"Whatever you say," the Roman sneered back.

"But I bet that you're buried in the ground before I am."

"I could kill you right now and change that," Tristan interjected, his voice and face still expressionless.

But the Roman wasn't taking Tristan's threat seriously at all as he responded, "You still don't have all your information, Sarmatian. And you know I've got some of it. So you see, no matter how much you want to, you can't kill me just yet."

"Perhaps not; but unless you tell us who this other person is, you're life could be considerably _less_ comfortable," Dagonet said, his voice as calm as he could make it.

"I'm a dead man either way," the man in the cell cackled back cruelly.

And he refused to say any more after that, merely staring at the faces of the two Knights and Cass with great amusement. So the group left him to his smug grin and dark cell, thinking that he had something over them. Which he, in fact, did; because nobody had expected there to have been another plotter.

Cass frowned all the way as she was led out of the building where three people that she hated so much were held captive. But that expression vanished when she stepped out of the building into the sunlit street and promptly collided with someone. She grimaced and only just stopped herself from crying out as she grabbed for Tristan's arm. He caught and steadied her, glaring harshly at the man who had accidentally bumped into Cass.

"Cassandra...? Are you alright?" a familiar voice asked her.

She looked up, past a curl that had fallen in front of her face, and saw someone that she'd almost completely forgotten about. She stared as hazel eyes looked concernedly upon her.

"Aldwyn?" Cass asked, confused.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

The Knights at either side of Cass said nothing; they merely stared at the man who had so carelessly walked into the woman that they had spent a week extremely worried about.

"I was about to ask you the same question; are you sure you're alright?" Aldwyn asked again.

She realised then that she was still frowning at the pain from her injury and tried to smooth over her expression. It didn't work.

"Er, yeah, I just- I'm fine," Cass answered dismissively.

Cass knew that no one around the Fort had heard about the plot against Arthur. She knew that they'd all kept the secret well. And she also knew that she'd not be the one to reveal what had happened. So the group lapsed into a silence that was more than slightly awkward, and Aldwyn was the one that broke it, even if he did so quite reluctantly.

"I'm here to see my cousin."

"Wait, your cousin?" Cass asked, becoming even more confused by the moment.

"I've been trying for a week to find out where he is. My uncle only just found out this morning and told me. I'm really only here to see him to find out why he's in there."

There was a long pause in which both the Knights and Cass eyed Aldwyn carefully.

"You are?" Cass asked suspiciously.

Aldwyn nodded vehemently. _A week? That's just too coincidental, isn't it?_ she thought apprehensively.

"Who is your cousin?" Dagonet asked, saving Cass the trouble.

Aldwyn blinked and frowned slightly as he turned his attention to the tall Knight on Cass' right.

"His name's Rosach. Why? Do you know something that I don't?"

Cass' breath caught in her throat as she heard the name that Tristan had once told her was the name of one of the plotters. She stared accusingly at the man she'd met just a day before the plotters had approached her. Aldwyn's cousin was one of the plotters.

All the information she had seemed to point towards Aldwyn being the other plotter. It was all too obvious now. And it seemed that both Tristan and Dagonet thought so too, because, as soon as Aldwyn had said those words, Cass felt Dagonet take her arm to support her.

She couldn't even say anything before Tristan took a step towards Aldwyn, and a step in front of her. Aldwyn moved backward slightly at the aggressive stance the Knight had adopted, his mouth opening questioningly. His eyes found Cass' but he found nothing but confusion and disgust there.

"What's going on? What are you doing?" he questioned Tristan.

"It's _you_?" Cass asked, answering him with another question.

"You're the other plotter?" she said, revulsion written obviously on her features.

"Plotter? What are you talking about?" he queried, his fair eyebrows knitting in confusion.

"There's no point lying. The Roman, Crixus, told us there was another plotter, and it's you- it has to be you-" Cass croaked out.

"What, who? I honestly don't know what you're talking about Cassandra," Aldwyn answered, some sort of sincerity clear in his voice.

Cass and the two Knights stood by, unmoving from their positions.

"Look, really, if this has something to do with my cousin, then I honestly don't know anything. I only just found out that he was in prison today-"

_He did say that before we mentioned anything..._ she thought, her brows creasing into a deeper frown. There was a silence that grew longer with each moment that past.

"We'll take him to Arthur," Tristan said, his hand reaching out and grasping Aldwyn's arm forcefully.

**Author's Note: Sorry for such a short chapter, the first of my final three A levels starts tomorrow- a fifteen hour art exam (no music/talking=dead Kit)- so I've not been too good with getting things written. And, for a while, my updates will be irregular, so sorry about that too- but, you know, I'd like to pass my exams, so I'll try and focus on them for a little while. :P**

**Kit xx**


	55. Explanations and Wonderings

The group walked to the room that housed the Round Table and stopped just outside. Tristan instructed Aldwyn to wait in the room that Cass had waited in when she'd first been brought to the Fort. And Cass got the impression that Aldwyn would _not_ try to run from that room; not with the look that had appeared on his face when Tristan had warned him of what would happen if he did.

After the Knights had closed the side door on Aldwyn, Tristan took Cass' arm from Dagonet, and the taller Knight departed to gather the others. Tristan supported Cass until he'd made sure that she was sat comfortably. Then he took a seat beside her, and Cass didn't fail to notice that he'd relinquished the place he'd sat in for fourteen years, just for her.

She gave him a sort of worried smile as she reached out for his hand. He gave her hand a gentle and reassuring squeeze in return whilst they waited for the other Knights to arrive. It seemed that Dagonet had found them easily though, because the meeting was assembled almost immediately.

Cass and Tristan simply watched as the Knights filed in one by one after Dagonet. When they were all convened, it was Dagonet that stood to explain the purpose of having gathered everyone.

He explained what had happened when Cass had spoken to the Roman plotter, the revelation about there being another plotter and, finally, how they'd _literally_ bumped into the cousin of one of them just moments later. Dagonet sat down to signal the end of his speech, and a short silence followed.

"It could just be a coincidence-" Galahad started, but Cass interrupted him.

"If that's just a coincidence then I'll eat my hat."

The Knights stared at her for a moment as if she was mad, and Gawain eventually said, in mock curiosity, "You don't have a hat, do you?"

"It's just an expression..." Cass answered as she frowned at the Knight.

"Anyway; what do you think?" she added, turning her gaze on the others.

"It does seem a little suspicious," Lancelot said seriously.

A few of the others nodded in agreement.

"True," Arthur began.

"However, I do not think that there is enough evidence to justifiably imprison this man. There is no proof, after all; and this _is_ mere speculation."

Cass' frown darkened though Arthur's reply had been one that she'd expected. Even though it was one of the reasons that he would make a great king, for once, she was cursing how fair Arthur always had to be. And, it seemed, so was the Knight at her side. Cass noticed it immediately as Tristan's grasp tightened around her hand.

"So what do you suggest? That we just let him free and wait for him to come after Cass?" Tristan started.

His voice was even, but Cass could tell that that was only his way of keeping his anger just below the surface.

"We watch him," Arthur answered, ignoring the Knight's tone and what he, too, knew it to mean.

It was obvious that that answer had clearly not satisfied the scout, but Arthur continued.

"And someone stays with Cass at all times to protect her."

At that, Tristan seemed to calm somewhat, but his grip on Cass' hand did not loosen. For her part, Cass was inwardly groaning. _This is exactly like when I was almost arrested, _she thought grimly.

She really did hate being such a burden to the Knights. _But_, Cass supposed, _if Arthur does insist that Aldwyn goes free- which I know he will- then it may very well be necessary._ And that thought certainly didn't make her feel any better about the situation.

Cass soon realised that she would not be getting a say in this discussion as the men continued to talk. Some had objections to setting Aldwyn free, whilst others saw reason in Arthur's argument. But after a while, Cass stopped listening. She knew that Arthur's suggestion would be what they settled upon, no matter who liked it and who didn't. Then Gawain said something that caught her attention.

"Perhaps we should bring him in," he suggested, running his hand of his beard thoughtfully.

That started a whole new conversation, which eventually led to Dagonet leaving the room and returning with Aldwyn. The first thing Cass noticed with Aldwyn's face. It was pale and had an expression of slight fear and utter confusion plastered over it.

He stood awkwardly; something that was not aided by the tall Knight looming over him at his side. Aldwyn's eyes flickered around the room, finally landing on Cass' blank stare. She looked away, feeling more than uncomfortable and unsure about the man that had tried to befriend her. So Aldwyn turned to look at Arthur, staring at him with that exact same expression.

"Aldwyn, is it?" Arthur said.

Aldwyn gave a small nod as he watched the half Roman, half Briton Commander.

"Your cousin, Rosach, is in prison, am I correct?"

"Yes," Aldwyn replied with a frown.

"But I don't know why. I didn't even find out he was there until this morning."

He paused and ran his fingers through his hair in a sigh of confused frustration.

"Look, honestly, I have no idea what's going on, or why I've been brought here. I've done nothing wrong."

"Indeed," Arthur replied slowly.

"I must apologise for my Knights bringing you here so suddenly, their intent was honest."

_What the Hell?_ Cass thought, only just keeping the frown from her face. _Why's he saying that?_

"We have had some trouble with a few people at the Fort recently-" Arthur started.

"-And it just so happens that your cousin is one of them," interrupted Lancelot.

Aldwyn frowned and Cass finally understood what Arthur was doing. _He's testing Aldwyn's expressions to see if there are any triggers_, she surmised. She knew that it was a good plan, or at least it would be if it worked. And it really didn't seem to be working.

"I don't know what it is that my cousin has done, but I can assure you that I had nothing to do with it," Aldwyn replied, the small frown still lingering on his face.

"I would think carefully about that answer, for lying to us would not be a wise decision," Gawain said.

"I _swear_ to you that I'm not lying. I honestly have no idea what this is all about."

"If you're certain... You may go," Arthur answered, waving a hand dismissively.

A wave of relief seemed to wash over Aldwyn's face, Cass noticed. But it was a relief that still looked a little bewildered. He gave Arthur a small nod and left the room, much to the chagrin of Cass, Tristan and the other Knights. The door shut behind Aldwyn, and a long silence followed.

"Well?" Lancelot asked as one eyebrow rose questioningly.

For some reason unknown to her, most of the men looked at her. So Cass sighed and considered her answer. What _did_ she think of what Aldwyn had said? Her pause was not long, and, eventually, Cass swallowed and spoke up.

"I... I don't know... I hate to say it, but it sounded like he might be telling the truth."

Tristan's grip tightened around her hand and Cass turned to him. He was staring at her intently with those deep, brown eyes through his curtain-like strands of hair, waiting for an explanation. She almost frowned as she continued.

"I don't know why but... Did you see how he looked at Arthur when he came in? _I_ saw no animosity in that stare, only fear and confusion."

"That could've just been an act, Cass," Galahad put in.

She shrugged and answered, "Maybe. Like I said, I don't know."

"Sounded like bullshit to me," Bors added.

Cass looked at the big Knight and couldn't help but give him a small smile. For all his crudities, Bors had always been able to make her smile.

"Bors," Arthur warned.

Bors turned to his commander wearing a look of feign ignorance.

"I'm just saying, he didn't really say much apart from mumbling some shit that he didn't know anything," Bors continued.

"Which is what he would say if he _didn't_ know anything," Dagonet replied.

Cass gave the tall Knight a sideways glance and almost smiled again. She could tell that this conversation was going to go nowhere. And she could tell that they were going to talk themselves in circles only to reach a conclusion that had already been reached. But Cass was not the only one who realised that, it seemed, as Arthur spoke up again.

"We've already determined a course of action. We should stick to it before Aldwyn gets too far away... Tristan."

She felt the fingers around hers give a gentle squeeze before the Knight at her side stood. She felt the soft kiss he pressed lightly to the top of her head as he left the room to keep watch on Aldwyn. Cass watched Tristan leave, and, as the door pulled shut for a second time, she turned back to the others.

The meeting adjourned almost as soon as Tristan departed, and it was decided that Cass would join the Knights- minus Arthur, who still had some paper work to attend to- in the tavern for the remainder of the day.

Even if she did feel a burden to them, the tavern would have been where she'd gone next anyway. Cass wanted to see Vanora, so, she reasoned, the Knights were merely helping her on her way whilst they went in the same direction.

_Helping_, she thought. _Always helping me. At least I'll have a chance at repaying them when the time comes. At least I'll have a chance to save them like they're constantly saving me_.

When they arrived at the tavern, Dagonet helped her to her usual seat beside Tristan's empty one in the corner. And Vanora was quick to arrive with a jug full of some alcoholic beverage that Cass declined.

"I think it's probably still a little early to start drinking," she reasoned with a small smile.

"It's never too early to start drinking," Bors chipped in, pulling Vanora down onto his lap.

Vanora smiled and turned to kiss her lover. The fact that she was pregnant, and even obviously showing now, seemed only to have strengthened their relationship. They always seemed so comfortable together, Cass observed; even when Vanora was angry at Bors for doing something stupid. That was just how they were. And it was perfect for them.

But, of course, as soon as Cass had had that thought, she started to think about her and Tristan. To wonder what might happen next. Would she, like Vanora, end up pregnant with the child of a Sarmatian Knight? Would she eventually end up marrying Tristan? She had no idea. But none of those things bothered her, despite the social conventions ingrained in her from her own Century.

In fact, if she could have a life as Vanora and Bors did (with perhaps slightly _fewer_ children), if she could have a life with Tristan, then Cass knew that she would be happy. But for that to happen, she needed to save his life. And as she leaned back against her chair, Cass started to wonder exactly how she could make that possible.

**Author's Note:**

***Impending rant, glaze over the next paragraph if you'd like to avoid frustrated rambling***

**Well, I've just had such a SHIT day. Did my Drama practical exam, and basically, after months of work, our piece only got a high C. There are a lot of reasons I'm angry about this, and half of them come down to my two... URGH... Drama teachers. So I'm pretty sure that means I'm going to get a high C overall even though I got an A last year. I mean, how do you go from an A to a C? :S And for fecks sake, the other two groups got As- and I shan't mention some things that I could say about that- let's just say at one point one of them threw cake about the stage. And urgh, don't get me started on the teachers who we CONSTANTLY asked if the piece was okay and what we could do to improve it amd all they said was, "It's fine, it's great". And then the examiner said it wasn't thriller enough and didn't have enough tension. *headtodesk***

***Rant over. Time to drown my sorrows by curling up in bed in my pyjamas with a bucket of Ben&Jerry's and an Apple Sours and lemonade whilst watching King Arthur (again- yet it always cheers me up)***

**So clearly I'm bitter. :P**

**Anyway, so apart from that, my Art exam last week went really well, and now I just get to focus on English Literature until June 16****th****. Because I WILL do better in both of those subjects. I'm determined.**

**Sooooooo anyways, please do review, it'll make me feel better about my failure. :/**

**Kit xx**


	56. What Morning Brings

Another week passed, and Cass saw less of Tristan than she would have liked. He seemed always to be out tracking Aldwyn to make sure that he made no move toward Cass. But even then, Cass could not be lonely. There was always one Knight at her side. It seemed to Cass that no one would leave her on her own.

Tristan always returned at night though, to sit beside Cass as she slept. To watch over her, though she never heard him come in. One night, Cass woke to find the Knight, seated as he so often was, in the chair by the side of her bed. She watched him for a while and discovered quickly that he was asleep.

A frown formed her eyebrows into arches. _Why does he _always_ insist on sleeping in that stupid chair?_ she wondered. _That _can't_ be comfortable._ Cass shifted under the thick sheet above her until she pushed herself up and was leaning against the wooden headboard. She was careful and quiet as she did it, ensuring that she did not wake the Knight at her side.

Cass just watched Tristan sleep for what seemed to have been a long time, but was really only minutes. Strands of his dark hair fell over his face as he slept, just as they did when he was awake. But there was something in the quiet Knight's face now that was peaceful and softer than usual. It was almost odd for Cass to see that expression when he so often kept a mask to cover his emotions.

But Cass didn't really get to watch Tristan for long, as the Knight's deep brown eyes were soon to open to meet hers. They held each other's gaze for a moment through the midnight darkness, and Tristan's expression formed into its usual, well-held facade.

"Why do you always insist on sleeping in that chair?" Cass asked eventually.

There was a long pause as the Knight considered his answer and the woman just stared back at him.

"It's not my place to-" he started slowly.

"Don't say that Tristan," Cass said, interrupting him softly.

"You know very well that I don't think like that and you also know very well I do not see you sleeping in my bed as anything that's 'not your place'."

He almost frowned at her as he finally replied, in a quiet voice, "I don't want you to think that I'm taking advantage of you."

"Tristan, just... No, just no. I can't believe that you don't know that I trust you far more than that," she answered, almost smiling at the Knight's stubborn and honourable ways.

"Just get into bed; I don't want to have this argument again."

A small smile caught the corner of Tristan's lips as the woman stared at him and tried to act seriously. He could tell that she wasn't going to let this go until he agreed, and the thing that he wanted the most was for her to sleep so her recovery would come quicker. So Tristan stood with a shake of his head and made his way around to the empty side of Cass' bed. With a triumphant smile, Cass manoeuvred herself back down into her bed, beside where the Knight lay down.

"Thank you," she whispered, looking over to Tristan.

Even in the darkness, Cass could see the glint in Tristan's eyes that held his amusement at the woman's insistence.

"Sleep," Tristan said quietly, as he leant over and placed a soft kiss to her forehead.

And Cass did sleep. It was one of the best night's sleep she'd had in a long while and she'd admit it any time. The night had been peaceful. Beautiful. But the next morning brought news that was anything but.

Cass woke with her head resting on the shoulder of the sleeping Knight. A flash of pain hit her as she shifted slightly and realised that she'd inadvertently been lying on her still-healing wound. A long sigh escaped her lips and Cass couldn't force herself to move, even to relieve that sharp feeling in her chest.

It was only when Tristan woke, that Cass reluctantly moved- and that was only because Tristan understood that how she was lying would only hurt her further. She frowned as Tristan helped her to manoeuvre herself onto her back, so that she no longer stretched the muscles that so ached now.

She watched as Tristan pushed himself out of bed, and pulled on his boots again. Cass sighed and shunted herself up to a seated position once more. She had to literally hold back a wince from the pain of her strained injury, and she hoped that she'd managed to conceal it from the quiet Knight. But nothing seemed to go unnoticed by the ever-observant Tristan and he paused, his eyes asking her if she was alright.

"I'm fine," Cass said, forcing a small smile to her lips.

Tristan saw through that easily too, she noticed, as he continued to stare at her.

"_Honestly_," she said in another attempt at convincing Tristan that she was telling the truth.

Cass carefully slid her legs out of bed, turning her back on where Tristan stood as she did. She was glad that he couldn't see her face then, because she couldn't have hidden her grimace from him otherwise. But she had to hide it as best she could when Tristan walked around the bed to Cass' side and held out a hand to help her. She gave him a sideways look but accepted his outstretched hand anyway and he helped her to her feet.

Dressing wasn't as easy as she'd thought it would be. It would have been if she hadn't slept so awkwardly and hurt herself once more. And Cass found herself needing Tristan's assistance yet again.

Once she was dressed, and her blush was hot on her cheeks, Cass gave Tristan a small smile in thanks. Of course, she still felt uncomfortable with asking him to help her dress herself; but Tristan was always courteous. And he never did anything to take advantage of the situation. Though that was just another reason that she loved him so much.

They walked out of Cass' room and promptly met Lancelot in the corridor. He seemed almost breathless, and, for once, the Knight made no gesture at the sight of the pair leaving a bedroom together in the early morning. Nor did he mention the fact that Tristan's arm rested over Cass' shoulder. Instead, Lancelot eyed the pair grimly for a moment before speaking.

"We just got word of an attack on a village to the west."

Cass frowned at the news. _An attack?_ _That means... the Knights have to leave on a mission_, she thought dejectedly.

"We're meeting in the stables; we have to leave immediately," Lancelot added before turning to leave.

The curly-haired Knight departed quickly, leaving Cass and Tristan behind, frozen in their place. Cass closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Another mission meant that the Knights would be out putting themselves in danger once again, and Cass just wasn't quite sure she could deal with that right now.

But she knew that this long period of no missions couldn't have lasted. She'd just hoped it would. And, apparently, her hopes counted for nothing.

"Come," Tristan said quietly, and Cass felt his arm around her urging her forward.

The pair started to walk slowly to the stables, only pausing so that Tristan could change and gather a few things he would need. With each step, Cass' mood seemed to sink lower and lower as she tried to fight back the worry that she knew she'd feel when the men left.

And Tristan felt no better about the thought of leaving for a mission. Leaving Cass, in fact, was the last thing he wanted to do. But if he was called for a mission, both he and Cass knew that he had no choice but to answer it. How easily he went, however, was a different matter.

When Tristan and Cass arrived at the stables, they observed all of the other Knights already preparing for this mission with some haste. It wasn't long before Arthur noticed the two standing in the doorway, and made his way over to them quickly.

"We're headed west," Arthur said, directing the statement more to Tristan than to Cass.

But Tristan didn't nod like Cass had expected him to. In fact, he stared at his commander for a moment before, _again_ unexpectedly, replying.

"Do you think it wise?"

Cass blinked. _What? What's he talking about?_ she wondered as she turned to look at the Knight by her side. Tristan was still staring intently at Cass and Arthur just stared back. But that just confused Cass more because she had no idea what Tristan meant. She didn't have to wonder long though, as Arthur answered that question for her.

"_You_ will not be joining us," he said to Tristan.

"It should be a short mission; not one in which every man is essential. You must stay to ensure Cass' safety."

The dark haired woman literally had to stop her mouth from hanging open. _Tristan's staying? He can _stay_?_ she thought, clearly dumbfounded. Cass watched as Tristan nodded to Arthur, just before the commander turned back to mount his horse. It was really only moments after that that the Knights had ridden out of the stables and left Cass and Tristan standing, alone, beside the still-open doors.

Cass watched as the Knights disappeared and couldn't help but feel a little strange. They were gone, but Tristan was still with her. _Of course_, she was glad that he was; but she would have preferred it if they _all_ could have stayed- for the benefit of their safety more than her own. Cass leant in to Tristan's body and gave a small sigh.

"It's a little odd..." Cass said quietly.

"You being here while everyone's on a mission."

"I'm not going anywhere, remember?"

And Cass couldn't help but smile at that as she remembered the night he'd first made that assurance to her. She turned around so that she was facing the scout directly then.

"No; I suppose not," she replied as his arm fell to her elbow.

Tristan tilted his head at her and Cass saw that familiar glint appear in his eyes. She _loved_ that glint. Pushing herself up on her tiptoes, Cass brushed her lips against his. It was Tristan that deepened the kiss though, and Cass was glad that he leant down to her to do so because it hurt her to remain in such a position for too long.

Their kiss broke as they heard a noise from the corner of the stable though. And both turned to look as they pulled back from each other. The source of the noise, it turned out, had been Kaydin; and Cass smiled at the sight of the horse. She walked over to him, and Tristan allowed her to do so unaided.

He could tell that she was continually trying to prove to him that she was strong enough to take care of herself. That she was getting better, But he also know that, sometimes, when she tried to do just that, that she would only hurt herself more in the process.

Cass made it to the side of Kaydin's stall with only a wince ghosting the fringes of her expression. She suddenly felt quite pleased that she'd managed to do so without help for once, though that was ruined when she realised how pathetic it was to be pleased over so small an achievement. So Cass reached a hand out to Kaydin to distract herself, and the bay horse nuzzled her palm softly.

"Missed you," she said quietly, running her other hand over his neck.

"He seems to have missed you too," Tristan observed after a while, his voice sounding from right beside her.

Cass turned to see that he had indeed appeared at her side. _It's nice to know that he's still got a knack for that... or not so nice_, she thought with a tiny smile. They stood in silence again, and it was Cass that eventually interrupted it.

"You know... I don't think I'd quite realised that I hadn't been in here since... _you know_..." she trailed off lamely.

She felt a hand placed comfortingly on her shoulder, but, strangely, she didn't feel better because of it.

"I just... It's like... I want to be able to ride Kaydin again; I want to be able to walk wherever I want to; I want to be able to go out training again... I want..."

Cass stopped talking again as she felt Tristan envelope her in his embrace. She leant her head against his shoulder and her eyes closed as she continued.

"I want to be better again," she whispered into his chest.

"You will be, Cass," was all that Tristan said as she wrapped her own arms around him.

They stood for a long time like that and, in Cass' opinion, that was a good thing, because otherwise, Tristan would have seen how hard it was for her to keep herself from crying. But she managed it, and she made sure that that expression was clear from her face as she tilted herself back from him.

"I hope so," she replied, looking away from the Knight who had a hold of her.

They spent the rest of the day together. Tristan made no attempt to watch Aldwyn when there was no one that he could leave to protect Cass. Whatever Aldwyn chose to do this particular day really didn't matter as much as making sure that no one harmed Cass. At least Cass would be safe with him by her side.

The pair ended up back in Cass' room after the sky had grown dark again And they found themselves in almost the same position that Cass had awoken to find them in. Only, this time, Tristan had made sure that how Cass was lying, would not strain her still-healing wound. She relaxed comfortably in Tristan's arms as they both sunk into a would-be restful sleep. Little did they know that their sleep would not remain so.

Cass hadn't really considered what the Knights leaving would mean. She hadn't really thought about what usually happened when the Knights left on a mission. She hadn't really thought about her nightmares returning- particularly when she was right beside the Knight that she _especially_ did not want to find out about them.

But just because she hadn't thought about it, didn't mean that her nightmares wouldn't return. And they _did _return, thick and fast. Every nightmare was the same, and every nightmare ended in a death. The last, and always the worst; the one that forced her to re-watch Tristan's death over and over, was what had Cass waking up and finding herself screaming once again.

Tristan's hands were on her shoulders, as if he had been trying to wake her. He was staring at her darkly, a frown creasing his features. It was worry in his expression, Cass was soon able to identify. But as soon as Cass saw that, she blinked away those few fallen tears that always escaped when her nightmares visited. It didn't take her long to realise what had happened, and what Tristan had seen, as he stared at her intensely.

"Tristan, I... Er... I..." Cass started, but she had no way to finish her sentence so she paused.

"Cass?" he asked eventually.

But Cass still didn't know how to answer him. How to explain herself.

"I... Well, you see..." Cass sighed and looked away for a moment.

"I have these nightmares," she finished lamely.

Tristan continued to stare at her, his frown darkening considerably. He'd never heard her scream as she did in waking herself from that dream. Nor had he seen the look on her face as she'd shot bolt upright . And it worried him. Immensely so.

"I, er, I only have them when you're all out on missions."

Tristan's frown became as deep as Cass had ever seen it, as he replied, "You never said-"

"Of course, I didn't say," Cass said, cutting him off.

"It's not your fault; you don't get to choose when you have to leave. You have to... I just worry, and..."

She stopped herself from continuing. She knew that she couldn't reveal too much. She couldn't say what it was that had her waking up screaming every time the Knights left for a mission.

"I just worry," Cass repeated.

The Knight stared at her for a few moments more before pulling her to him, and enclosing her in his arms' embrace. He'd not known at all that Cass had these nightmares. But he suspected that now would not be the right time to ask what they were about, though he desperately wanted to know.

And the fact that the woman in his arms did suffer so much as a result of his and the other Knights' actions- no matter how involuntary those actions were- made him angry. So, as he lay with Cass in his arms, Tristan's mind settled on becoming even more determined to protect her than he had been before.

**Author's Note: Hi guyssss, how y'all doing? :) Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed and helped cheer me up after my Drama... drama... :P**

**Thought I'd let you all know that I got over it now with the help of a couple of my fantastic friends, and a rather awesome end-of-week party.**

**So here's another chapter because I just felt like it. :) It sort of popped out of nowhere and I had to write it down. Hope you all like it anyway! And please do review! :D**

**Oh, and, random note of today, I lost my iPod yesterday and bought an iPodtouch this morning. So far I'm loving it. :D ...Yeah, I know, pointless information. I'm good at spouting that stuff. ;) :P**

**Kit xx**


	57. Reason Overrun

The Knights returned after two more nights, and Cass' nightmares continued to plague her until that time. Every time that she woke up screaming, Tristan was there to calm her down; but he couldn't help but wonder how long it took her to calm herself without him at her side.

Tristan had not yet queried her about the images that she saw in her nightmares, because she seemed so keen to avoid the subject. He didn't want her to be uncomfortable, nor did he want her to think that he was prying into something so personal to her. But it didn't stop him from worrying every time that Cass woke up with eyes filled with tears of sadness and fear.

None of the Knights seemed too worse for wear on their return, which everyone was glad to see; though a few sported more cuts and bruises than they'd like to admit to. But, of course, as soon as they had returned, their previous routine began again. And Tristan left to watch over Aldwyn's movements once more.

Time went on as such for the few weeks that followed; but no one had attempted to hurt Cass. Not that they'd had a chance with a Knight at her side, offering her protection, at all times. But the Knights watches, on both Aldwyn, Cass and their usual charges wore on regardless.

In those weeks though, Cass started to regain her strength. She started to feel her old self again. The wound itself was almost healed into the scar that would always be with her and only offered up a few, occasional twinges of pain. But it was nothing that affected her too harshly.

In fact, Cass found that, with some effort at first, she could wield her sword again. Lancelot took her out to train occasionally, to build up what she had been forced to let slip due to lack of practice. Initially, Cass had found that she could manage only a short time before her injury troubled her again. Yet with each try, Cass became more and more able to stand and continue. With each try, she became more able to act as she used to.

So, soon Cass started to become frustrated with her constant protective guards. Not because of anything they had done, but merely because she felt as though she was an unnecessary burden on their shoulders. And she hated that thought. So one quiet night, as the group sat together in the tavern, Cass decided to say something to the Knights.

"Um, you know this... well, you- you know how you're all always looking after me? Um, well it's not like I don't appreciate it- because I _really_ do. But... but I'm not quite sure that it's so essential anymore..." Cass started quietly; awkwardly.

She received seven confused glances in response, and so continued.

"It's just, well, I can protect myself again... And I just feel like looking after me is taking up a lot of your time unnecessarily."

"It's not unnecessary at all, Cass. There's still someone out there, remember?" Lancelot answered from her side.

"Yes, but we've heard nothing for a month. I'm not even sure that there is another plotter-"

"Whether there is or not, we should still be watchful," Dagonet put in.

"I agree, but the thing is... I feel like I'm being a burden to you all and-"

"You are _not_ a burden, Cass," Tristan replied from her other side.

Cass turned to look at him seriously for a moment, before saying quietly, "I feel like I am, though. I really do."

She turned back to the others, a slight frown creasing her brows and added, "Look; the Roman either made up that there was another plotter, or they're going to wait us out. Either way, I don't want to be thinking about it- I don't want to be reminded constantly of this. I'll remember to be wary but... I think that remaining as we are, with you all spending your time looking out for me, is really just too much. It's too strenuous for you- and I don't want you all to be wasting your time for no reason... Besides, I'm fine now anyway. I _can_ protect myself again."

The Knights had waited for Cass to finish this time before saying anything. The thing was that they now understood what Cass meant and how she felt. But it didn't mean that they liked the idea of it at all.

"Cass..." Tristan started quietly, but he stopped at the pleading glance she sent him.

"I'll be careful," Cass said, her frown still sticking in her expression.

It was Arthur that had the final say on this discussion though, as he so often did. And it was his decision that had Tristan forcing the masked expression that he always wore to remain on his face.

Because Arthur agreed that maintaining such a vigilant watch on Cass was straining them in ways it was hard to maintain. So he allowed Cass the freedom she wanted from their imposing watch, but reminded her that she must be extra careful without them there.

And at that, Tristan refused to speak for the remainder of the evening. He was too angry; and that much was obvious as no one tried to force him into conversation as they usually might. In fact, Tristan only spoke when he and Cass were alone later, walking back to the building that housed both of their rooms.

"It's just one person, Tristan. I'll be fine," Cass whispered, trying to get him to look at her.

"I won't let them hurt you again," Tristan answered, his quiet voice strained.

"I'll be fine," she repeated.

"Trust me."

"The last time you said something along those lines, you came back with that scar," he said seriously.

Cass paused. _How do I answer that? He's right, but..._ She closed her eyes for a second and stopped walking. Tristan came to a stop beside her as she did, but he was still looking at her as seriously as he had when he'd spoken.

"Tristan, please don't be mad. It's just... I'll be fine."

She looked away from him, not knowing what else that she could say. The Knight frowned at Cass and his hand moved up to rest against her cheek. Her eyes flickered back up to Tristan's and she waited for him to speak.

"I'm not mad. I just want you to be safe."

Cass sighed, and a small smile rose to form over her previously-unhappy expression.

"I will be," she whispered as she leant in to place a gentle kiss on the lips of the Knight she loved.

He paused for the tiniest of moments before returning the kiss.

"I know," he breathed as he pulled back some time later.

Cass' small smile remained on her face as they continued to walk back to their rooms. They paused in the corridor once they were there though, and Tristan almost turned for his own room. But Cass' hand caught his arm before he could. He tilted his head at her questioningly and Cass' familiar blush reappeared on her cheeks.

"Just because I can take care of myself again doesn't mean that you can't stay with me..."

She paused, her blush darkening as she added, "I mean, that is, if you wanted to, of course..."

The corners of Tristan's lips turned upward slightly and he stared at her with those deep, brown eyes of his until Cass was forced to look away. Feeling his hand on the small of her back urging her forward, Cass' eyes flashed back to his. He didn't need to say anything more as they entered Cass' room together.

They lay together that night saying very little, but just relaxing as they remained in the arms of the other. And eventually, the pair fell into a quiet and peaceful sleep. When they woke in the morning, Cass realised that Tristan was already awake. His hand was running softly over her long curls as she laid there, her eyes still closed.

Cass let out a long, contented sigh and turned to Tristan. Her blue eyes gazed at him as he looked back at her, and Cass couldn't help but lean closer to him and graze her lips against his cheek. And Tristan couldn't help but turn his head to capture her lips in a deeper kiss.

Smiling into his kiss, Cass returned it, softly moving her lips against his. She felt Tristan's hand weave into the hair that, just moments ago, he had been running his fingers through. And before she quite realised what she was doing, Cass' body was pressed up against the quiet Knight's.

But even when she did realise what she was doing- when she realised that this kiss was totally encapsulating and taking over her reason- she couldn't pull away from Tristan. The only thing that actually made her draw back was a sudden thought. And as she did, both she and Tristan froze. The look in his eyes was slightly confused, while the look in hers was almost stunned.

"Oh my god. I've had an idea," Cass said quickly.

Tristan's eyebrow rose as he watched the woman whose face was still so close to his own.

"Did we ever think to check the homes of the plotters?"

The Knight tilted his head slightly and, after a short pause, he replied in a quiet voice, "_That's_ what you were thinking about, right then?"

Cass blinked. A blush rose to dye her face a deep red and Cass felt like smacking her head against a wall. Repeatedly. Ofcourse_, I wasn't thinking about that. I was thinking about..._ she started to think, but stopped herself when she realised what she _had_ been thinking as her blush only darkened.

"_No_," Cass answered, trying to emphatically stress that point.

"It was just one of those things that just randomly pop into your head and hit you like a ton of bricks."

Tristan stared at her and eventually gave a slow nod of his head. A wave of relief rolled over Cass, and she was glad that Tristan at least seemed to understand what she meant.

"But seriously, have we checked their houses? I mean, most of them had respectable jobs, so why not houses? Maybe they had something hidden in them that they wouldn't want us to find."

Tristan eyed her seriously for a minute, until she continued.

"The plotters aren't saying anything. So, I mean, it's worth a try, isn't it?" Cass finished.

"You might have a point, Cass," Tristan answered finally.

After that, he and Cass were quick to inform the others of this idea. And it didn't take long to identify where each of the plotters lived- not with Arthur's connections anyway. The Knights separated and headed to each of the five known plotters' homes, and Cass went with Tristan to investigate.

It was mere coincidence that the pair found themselves outside of Rosach's family home. Just as it was mere coincidence that they found Aldwyn inside. Tristan paused as he caught sight of the man he had followed for weeks; but it was Aldwyn that stood frozen between Tristan and Cass.

"Er, I-" he started.

But Cass shook her head and stopped him.

"We're not here for you," she said quietly.

Aldwyn blew out a deep sigh of relief, but almost wished he hadn't as the Sarmatian scout stepped past him and into the house beyond, whispering, "_Yet_."

Once inside the house, Cass and Tristan stopped as they met a man that looked to be in his late fifties, who seemed the spitting image of Rosach. _That must be his father_, Cass thought as the man's eyes glossed over her and the Knight at her side. The man frowned as he turned his gaze on Aldwyn for but a second before looking back to them.

"Can I help you?" Rosach's father asked; his voice deep and gruff.

"We're here because of your son," Tristan answered.

Cass watched as the man's expression darkened at the mention of his son. _And so it should_, she thought grimly, considering the man and those other plotters that she so hated.

"Anything we can help you with?" Rosach's father asked, gesturing to Aldwyn as well as himself.

"We need to take a look around," Cass put in.

A simple nod was all she received in reply. Tristan and Cass searched the room they were in together; and others like it, finding nothing of note. They did so, in fact, until Rosach's father spoke to them again.

"My son's room is upstairs. I can take you there if you'd like," he offered.

Cass nodded, and the two headed upstairs. Tristan was about to follow when he noticed Aldwyn doing the same. A simple gesture of the Knight's hand stopped him dead though and Aldwyn stared at Tristan questioningly.

"We stay here," Tristan said, his tone low.

There was no way that he was going to let Aldwyn that close to Cass. He refused to put her, potentially, in that much danger. He wouldn't let Aldwyn near her again, just in case. So the two men waited in an awkward and incredibly tense silence for Aldwyn's uncle and Cass to return.

Rosach's room, Cass found, contained a lot of things. But none of them stood as particularly noteworthy as she searched through the many piles of the many things stacked up. It seemed that Rosach liked to horde seemingly random papers that needed a lot of looking through. And when Cass started to look through it, Rosach's father started to speak to her.

"What is it exactly that you're looking for?" he asked blandly.

Cass didn't look up from the papers as she answered, "Clues. Information. That sort of thing."

"Good luck trying to find it in this mess," the man frowned at her.

"Indeed. There does seem to be a lot of unnecessary papers. I wonder; do you know why he has all these?"

Rosach's father shook his head.

"Just before he was... _imprisoned..._ he became... very _secretive_. He wouldn't say anything about what he was doing- he just locked himself up here."

"That's interesting," Cass said, one eyebrow rising at the news.

A pause followed between them and only the shuffling of papers could be heard.

"So, do you know why it is that my son is in prison?" the man asked eventually.

"Because no one seems to want to tell me."

Cass looked up and pursed her lips.

"Yes; I know why he's in prison. I can't tell you why, but it's safe to say that we did _not_ get along. Or that he didn't get along with the law and common decency anyway."

She turned around to begin on a new pile of papers when something hard collided with the back of her head. Cass fell to the floor, for a moment, not really sure what was happening. With throbbing dizziness overtaking reason, Cass' fingers scraped against the floor. She felt strong hands beat at her once more, but before she could make a sound, one of those hands wrapped around her throat.

Her back hit the wall and Cass tried to reach for her swords. Rosach's father stopped her though, as he grabbed her wrists in one hand and held them above her head. He smiled cruelly as his grip tightened around her throat, choking the breath from her in a painfully slow way.

All that Cass could do was kick out and hope that her knee met its mark. Thankfully it did. And the man that she'd now discovered was the last free plotter dropped Cass to grab at his groin, where her knee had made contact.

"Tristan!" Cass yelled, but she was cut off as a sharp punch jabbed the place where her old injury lay.

As Cass crumpled against the wall, her back sliding down it slowly, pain wracked her in shooting spasms. She hazily saw the door open and two figures rush inside, but Cass wasn't really aware what happened next. She was just trying to get enough oxygen to her brain to keep from passing out.

Cass didn't really see the short fight that took place between the three men. And she didn't see the surprising alliance that formed between Tristan and Aldwyn as they took hold of the man. Of Aldwyn's own uncle. But that stopped neither man as they apprehended Cass' attacker.

Aldwyn held him back while Tristan beat him into unconsciousness. It wasn't so much that Tristan enjoyed hurting the man, or felt the need to. It was that he once more felt that he'd let Cass down. In trying to protect her, he had inadvertently left her alone with the man who wanted her dead. He had inadvertently broken his promise to keep her safe, _yet_ _again_.

"Tristan, stop..."

The Knight turned at the sound of the woman's weak and croaky sounding voice. And it was easy to see why her voice sounded like that from the harsh red marks ringing her throat; where the unconscious man had gripped her throat. With an angry breath, Tristan left the two men and went to Cass. He bent down beside her and helped the woman to her feet. She half fell into his arms, half threw herself there.

"Is that it?"

Tristan frowned at her for a moment before nodding.

"It's over now, Cass," the Knight whispered to her.

She almost found herself sobbing into his chest, but she fought hard to keep her emotions from rising to the surface. Cass didn't know why, but everything had just come together to become too much. She'd almost been killed, once more, but that wasn't what really had her feeling so overwhelmed. It was that she had once more been attacked and been virtually useless in defending herself.

_ I'm actually, truly awful at taking care of myself_, Cass thought blankly. And that was when she set in resolve that she would train until she was perfect before she could even dream of asking Arthur to join he and the Knights on their missions. But those were conversations and actions for another day. For now, she emerged herself in the feeling of Tristan's arms around her, trying to distract herself from those thoughts.

Tristan held the almost-crying woman in his arms, one hand resting on the back of her dark curls. His eyes found Aldwyn's and he saw that the man still had a hold of his unconscious uncle. And the Knight gave the fair-haired man a single nod. A nod that showed an earned respect, an earned thanks, and a much earned apology.

**Author's Note: Well, hello there. :) Couldn't stop myself from getting this chapter up reasonably quickly. It just came into my head as I was writing the last chapter and I couldn't wait to write this one. I'm really happy with how it turned out to be honest, so please do review and let me know what you think. :)**

**Kit xx**


	58. Actions Speak Louder Than Words

The fallout of the remaining plotter's attack on Cass rolled out quickly. Tristan and Aldwyn took Rosach's father to the cell beside the others, taking great pleasure in the dark expressions of the plotters when they saw both their comrade in prison _and_ Cass still somewhat unharmed.

The three then went to meet the Knights at the Round Table as they had planned to do before going to Rosach's family home. And Aldwyn found the experience very different than the last time he was there. He was far more welcome after Tristan and Cass had told the others about his helping them to capture his own uncle.

Indeed, as Cass had not expected, some of the previously less than friendly Knights apologised to him- well, they apologised in a way that only the Knights would, through nods, slight smiles and even a little too-hard slap on the back from Bors.

It was still painfully obvious how uncomfortable Aldwyn was amongst them. It was as if he was the one person in the room who did not belong; which, in fact, he was. Even though it should have been Cass in such a position, since she _was_ the one from the 21st Century after all.

So Aldwyn was soon to depart and leave the Knights and Cass to discuss what to do next. Now that the plotters had all been caught, it seemed like an easy decision to make. And it seemed that it had been in the forefront of everyone's minds since the question of how to deal with the plotters had been asked.

Consequently, when Arthur announced the decision to have the four still-alive plotters executed, it came as no surprise to the rest of the group. Cass had to hold back her smile at the news though. She knew it might look a little odd should she start grinning on hearing that four people were to be killed; but she was just so glad that this would be over. So glad that they would pay for the future that they would have unknowingly destroyed.

The Knights and Cass stood, about to leave for the tavern to celebrate when Gawain paused and caught Cass' arm. Both she and Tristan turned back to him questioningly and waited for the Knight to speak.

"I almost forgot," he started, rummaging a hand into his pocket.

"Here," he finished, putting something in Cass' hand.

Cass eyebrows arched down into a frown until she saw what the small object that he'd placed in her palm was. She was stunned.

"How-? Where-?"

"We found it in the woman's house when we were looking for evidence," Galahad answered, giving her a sideways grin.

Cass couldn't help but throw her arms around Gawain and then Galahad in turn.

"Thank you so much," she whispered, trying to hold back threatening tears.

The two men grinned and walked passed, leaving Cass alone with only Tristan by her side. A smile lifted her lips at the corners as she turned to the Knight next to her. One eyebrow rose questioningly, and Cass handed him the precious object that she'd thought was lost forever. Tristan looked down at Cass' key ring and, in it, the photograph of Cass and the parents that she knew that she would likely never see again.

His eyes trailed over the picture of a younger Cass and the man and woman on either side of her. And he knew exactly how precious that picture was to her; because they were _all_ far away from home; and if they had something of home with them, then it would be one thing that most closely guarded- like Lancelot with his little wooden carving.

Tristan placed the key ring in her hand and put an arm around her shoulder. They walked together without saying a word, and followed the others to the tavern. It was one of those nights in which a celebration began without anyone actually saying anything and a general, pleasant atmosphere took up residence in the tavern.

Drink flowed quickly, but Cass mostly refused to join the Knights in their consumption of a rather dubious amount of alcohol. She was far more contented sitting beside the quiet Knight in the corner, leaning against his arm and occasionally accepting a piece of the apple that he was silently cutting away at.

It wasn't too long into the night though, that Cass was distracted from their celebrations. Because, all at once, four of Vanora and Bors' children descended on her. Surprised, Cass tried to decipher what they were saying- which was a harder task than she'd expected when they all started to speak at once.

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on a second. One at a time, I can't hear you," Cass said, trying to hold back a smile at her inability to understand the four chattering voices.

"You never finished the story!" Three started.

"Yes, the story!" Five added.

"Wait, what story?" Cass asked, having forgotten that she had promised to finish telling them fairytales.

"Little Red Riding Hood!" One said, as if what Cass was missing was deadly obvious.

"Mummy said we weren't allowed to ask you to finish it-"

"We had to '_leave you alone_'," Two pouted.

"But now," interrupted Three.

"She said we could ask you-"

"Please- please, tell us the rest of the story!" One half begged.

"Go on, _please_!" came the chorus of voices surrounding her.

Cass looked up at Vanora, who was standing beside the bar. She caught the redhead's eye and received an apologetic glance and a mouthed "I'm sorry" in return. Cass laughed it off and turned back to the four still chattering children.

"Okay, okay; just give me a second, alright?" Cass replied, smiling at the four children surrounding her.

With a tiny laugh, she turned back to face Tristan, who had been watching Cass deal with the bombarding children almost amusedly. She rolled her eyes and placed a kiss on his cheek before being dragged off by the four children.

They had waited since before the plot against Arthur had begun to find out what happened to Little Red Riding Hood, so when they'd yanked her back to their room in Bors and Vanora's home, Cass did not disappoint in the retelling of the fairy tale. In fact, she even started another story, just to appease their craving for more. She had almost finished telling them about Sleeping Beauty when Vanora, Bors and Tristan turned up.

Cass paused for a moment as she heard them enter, but continued her story anyway. _We'll only be a few minutes_, she thought as she began telling the end of the story to the ten now-weary and sleepy-eyed children.

The three adults stood in the doorway listening to Cass weave the resolution of the fairy tale together and finally end with "And they lived happily ever after."

"Now, I'm pretty sure that your parents are here to tell you all to get some sleep-" she started, looking back at Bors and Vanora.

"Just one more story? Pleeeeeeease?" Four said, her bottom lip sticking out so far that Cass was sure she'd be able to sit on it.

"Leave the poor girl alone," Bors said loudly, grinning at his children.

Cass threw him a thankful glance and then stood up, straightening her dress slightly.

"Besides, if you're patient, maybe she'll come back more often and tell you stories," Vanora added.

Cass smiled at the bunch of children eagerly awaiting her answer to that suggestion.

Giving them a wink, she replied, "Next time I'll tell you about Peter Pan."

The children crowded around her like it seemed that they were so good at doing and Cass tried not to laugh. Even Tristan was fighting back a small smile at the sight of the woman unable to release herself from the circle of Vanora and Bors' brood.

Eventually, it was Tristan that managed to free her from the group by making his way through them and lifting Cass into his arms. Surprised, Cass wrapped her arms around Tristan, though it was more like she was clinging on for dear life than doing so as a romantic gesture. And, of course, Bors couldn't help but laugh at her and the blush that had risen to her cheeks.

Tristan carried her out of the small crowd and after Cass gave him a look that had 'thank you' written all over it. His eyes held that familiar glint as he carried her from Bors and Vanora's house, leaving the two parents to deal with their mob of children.

He set Cass down and shut the door to the house behind them. She smiled; glad to be standing free of the group of crowding children. But she almost didn't want to have left Tristan's embrace. There had been something so comfortable and warm about how he'd just been holding her- though, of course, she said nothing about it; the only evidence of that thought being the blush still darkening her cheeks.

Either not noticing or ignoring Cass' blush- and she knew that it was most likely the latter because Tristan barely ever missed anything- Tristan took Cass' hand. Her other hand, she rested gently on his forearm giving him a small smile as they set off back for their rooms.

When the pair finally reached the building that housed their rooms, they paused outside of Tristan's door. Cass tilted her head to the side as Tristan pulled her inside. To any fly on the wall it would not seem unusual that the two entered Tristan's room- they often alternated between his and Cass' rooms, but they always ended up sleeping together.

Something was different that night though. Some closeness. Some happiness that wasn't quite as prevalent before. As they stood in the darkness of Tristan's room, it didn't take their eyes long to adjust. But Cass did wonder why they were just standing in front of the now-closed door, Tristan's hands resting on her shoulder.

She tilted her head into the kiss that he placed on her lips anyway though. She felt his hands slide from her shoulders and down her arms as their kiss deepened. As their lips moved against each others at a quickening pace, Cass couldn't stop her own hands from travelling up to hook around Tristan's neck.

Eventually, Tristan pulled back from her, leaving both of them breathing heavily. Their eyes met in the darkness for a moment, before Tristan took hold of her hand and led her away from the door. Cass' blush rose to dye her cheeks red again when she realised where they were going.

Sure, she and Tristan sleeping in the same bed was nothing new; but this felt different. And Cass knew just how different it was when Tristan stopped at the side of the bed and pulled her into another deep kiss. The butterflies in her stomach seemed to be churning all her nervousness with every movement that she made.

When Tristan pulled back from her for a second time, Cass' mind was spinning. She was very much aware of where this was headed; but she also had no idea why they had paused. She found out though, when she caught Tristan's eye. He looked at her questioningly, as if asking her if this is what she really wanted. Touched, a small smile turned her features.

"This time it's not a distraction," she replied, blushing as she spoke.

A small sideways smile took hold of his lips as he remembered the time that they had almost been in the same position. The glint she loved so much clear in Tristan's eyes as he leant down to kiss her again. Things moved quickly then. Quickly, but beautifully. Until, that is, Cass felt the need to tell Tristan something she'd been dreading have to bring up. But she knew that she'd have to.

Her lips left his for a moment as she started, "Tristan..."

He paused and looked at her. Cass' blush had reddened her face completely as she tried to continue.

"I've... I've never..."

But Tristan saved her from finishing that sentence, as he placed a hand gently on her blush-rouged cheek. She gave a small, nervous smile at the simple touch, and it remained as the Knight bent his head back down to place a gentle kiss on her upturned lips.

Cass couldn't help but remember the saying, "Actions speak louder than words"; because it was _definitely_ true here.

**Author's Note: Guess what guys! I *officially* no longer attend Sixthform anymore. One more exam left and I'll be FREEEEEEE! ...Until I start University anyway... :P But at least then I'll be doing a creative writing and English course. *Much Love***

**Anyway, after a very awesome prom, and a sad goodbye to everyone at sixthform and work, I bring you this chapter. :)**

**Oh, and some other great news- I got a new job! :D It's just good times all around. :D**

**Kit xx**


	59. Back To The Way Things Were

Cass woke the next morning feeling a little sore, yet _very_ content. It took her a moment to remember what had happened between her and Tristan the night before, but as soon as it hit her, her eyes flashed open. She could feel her bare back against Tristan's chest. She could feel his hand resting on her hip. And Cass couldn't stop herself from blushing.

But she didn't want to move from where she lay pressed against the Knight, so warm and comfortable. And she didn't move. Cass just lay there and let out a contented sigh; though that seemed to be enough to wake the Knight at her side, because the hand on her hip slid across her stomach.

And Cass couldn't stop her blush from darkening; especially when Tristan pulled her round to face him. She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't find the right words to say, so instead she said nothing, but gave the man a tiny smile.

The corner of the Knight's lips turned upwards as he leant forward and placed a small kiss on the line of her jaw. So Cass closed her eyes at the feel of his lips on her skin and let the smile that Tristan loved to see- though he'd never told her so- take over her features.

Some time later, the pair separated, Tristan going to scout while Cass headed to the bathhouse. When she'd finished there, Cass started a slow walk to the tavern. The weather was far from perfect, with grey clouds looming over the Fort, but nothing seemed to be able to daunt Cass' pleasant mood that morning. Not even when she tripped over the loose hem of her blue dress and almost fell to the floor.

Glad that there was no one around to see her trip, Cass whispered to herself, "I really need to get some new dresses..."

_And to stop talking to myself_, she thought with a small frown. It wasn't long before she'd reached the tavern, and Cass soon took her place at the corner table beside the other Knights. Though before she could even say good morning, she was whisked away and found herself standing beside the bar top.

"Vanora! What are you-?"

"Oh Cass, you did!" Vanora said, grinning at her.

Cass frowned at the older woman, confused by her sudden outburst.

"_I_ _did_ what?" she asked.

"You and Tristan," she started.

"You finally-"

"Vanora!" Cass interrupted, her blush reappearing quickly on her face.

"Well, you _did_- and thank goodness for that, I've been wondering when you'd get to it."

Cass' mouth hung open. She was literally mortified. _How does Vanora know that we-? And why is she shouting it to the entire tavern?_ In reality, Vanora was using her normal speaking voice; but Cass was just so uncomfortable with talking about the subject that the red-head seemed to be shouting it out for the world to hear.

"Vanora, how did you...?" Cass asked, frowning at her friend.

"Women's intuition, Cass," Vanora replied, winking at the younger woman.

"Besides it's nothing to be ashamed of-"

"I'm not ashamed," Cass started in a whisper.

"I just... don't see the need of shouting around about people's sex lives-"

"Sex lives? Sounds like I came over at the right time," Cass heard a familiar voice say from behind her.

Lancelot. _Great. Well that's just fucking fantabulous_, Cass thought, her face dyed completely scarlet out of embarrassment. _I'll never live it down if _he_ knows_. And Vanora almost couldn't stop herself from laughing at the situation. Almost. Because the reason that she _did_ keep quiet was because Cass gave her a glare that told her that if she said a word, Cass would likely have to murder both her _and_ Lancelot.

"What is it that you want, Lancelot?" Vanora asked, hoping to save Cass from her situation.

Cass gave the woman a slightly relieved glance as her blush started to recede a little.

"Just hoping that you'd finally realised what a better match I am for you than Bors-" he started, smirking at Vanora.

But he didn't get to finish, because Cass punched him lightly in the arm. He feigned a scowl at the two women that had both of them just holding back their laughter.

"Keep dreaming," Vanora replied seriously.

"Oh, I will," Lancelot said with a wink and his usual smirk.

Narrowly dodging another swing of Cass' arm, Lancelot was about to leave but something stopped him as he turned to Cass.

"Oh and just in case you wanted to join us, we're headed out to train in about an hour."

"I'll be there," Cass answered.

"So long as you leave that mouth behind."

"You're just never going to let me have any fun, are you?" Lancelot said.

"Nope," Cass replied, rolling her eyes at him.

And later that day, Cass would join the Knights in their training; but not until after she had gone out and bought a few more, much needed, dresses. She placed them in her room, and changed into her training clothes. _Much better_, she thought. Cass started off to meet the others, for once, without worrying that anything bad was going to happen or that anyone was going to get hurt.

Weapons in hand, she found herself walking up to the hill to find that the Knights were already training. All of them were midway through some sort of training, most of them in pairs. Tristan was the only one who was not partnered, but was, in fact, firing arrows at a tree much farther than Cass would have expected anyone to be able to hit.

Her lips formed into an 'o' shape as she watched another arrow thud into its far away mark. Cass smiled to the other Knights, and they paused briefly to throw a few polite smiles and nods back at her. But Tristan didn't turn around until she was almost right beside him.

Then he lowered his bow and stared at the woman as she placed down her other weapons, but kept a hold on the bow that Galahad had given her along with a couple of arrows. Tristan's eyebrow rose as she straightened herself.

"Hey, I'm not _that_ bad," Cass said, a frown creasing her brow.

Tristan gestured with his hand for her to continue, an amused glint flickering in his eyes. Though, of course, that Tristan was watching her only made Cass more nervous. She picked a tree much closer than the one Tristan had been using, and tried to focus completely on shooting. And it seemed to work too, because she _did_ hit her target.

Cass turned her head and shot him a smug glare that only had her wanting to laugh at herself. She couldn't help but feel a little childish in doing so. _Oh well_, she thought, dismissing it.

"You're better," Tristan said, the corner of his lips turning upward.

But he didn't look or sound surprised as Cass had expected him to. But instead, Cass found him putting down his own weapon and moving behind her. His arms moved around hers, and he manoeuvred her into the position she'd been using with her bow. A blush on her face, Cass looked questioningly at the Knight pressed against her.

"Tristan, what-?"

The Knight simply shook his head in response. _Oh crap. What this time?_ Cass thought as they stood together in that position for a while.

"Focus," he whispered in her ear.

"On what?" Cass asked.

But Tristan guided her arm, and Cass saw that he was pointing her at a tree much farther than the one she'd hit before.

"I'll never hit that," she muttered under her breath.

"Concentrate," Tristan replied, his voice quiet but firm.

_Easy for him to say..._ Cass thought, considering how he'd just hit a mark much further away. But after a while Cass did start to concentrate, to really focus on what she was trying to do. And when Tristan gave her the signal to release her fingers from the bowstring, she hit the target.

Though Cass would reason later that that had not been _her_ who had hit the target; _that_ had been Tristan's doing. In fact, that was exactly what she had to reiterate to the rest of the Knights as they teased her sitting at their usual table in the tavern. Cass elbowed Tristan, who sat at her side cutting away at an apple; but all she got in response was a slightly amused stare. _Typical_, she thought.

But, before long, conversation turned to a different topic and, for that, Cass was relieved. It meant that she could just blend into the background with the silent Knight in the corner and lapse into their familiar silence. Cass soon found that she and Tristan were able to slip away from the drunken banter circling the table.

The next morning brought another surprise as Cass found herself waking as Tristan did. _Odd_, she thought as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. _I never usually wake up when Tristan's going scouting._ And then she had an idea. She sat up and watched the Knight as he dressed. Tristan caught her eye quickly, noticing that she was awake, and Cass gave him a small smile.

"Morning," she said quietly.

"Morning," Tristan replied, just as quietly, as he pulled on a second boot.

"Tristan, I was wondering... Would you mind if I came with you today?" Cass asked, biting her lip slightly.

Tristan tilted his head to the side as he considered the woman's suggestion. The last time she'd gone out scouting with him, they'd been attacked by a group of Woads. Did he really want to put Cass in that danger again? _No_, he thought; but he didn't see how he could say no. She could take care of herself, he knew, but he was still unsure about letting her join him.

Eventually, Tristan conceded however, and he nodded to Cass. A smile formed on her lips and she pushed herself out of bed to get dressed. She dressed quickly and, after grabbing her weapons, was soon headed, fully dressed, out of the door with the man she loved.

They walked to the stables and saddled their horses in the same familiar silence that they were used to. But when it came time to mount and ride out, Cass was a little hesitant. It wasn't so much that she was afraid of Kaydin, or riding him; it was more that she hadn't done so for so long that had her pausing.

Swallowing her uncertainty, Cass mounted Kaydin and settled herself into the saddle- if a little uncomfortably. Tristan gave her a slightly concerned look on seeing the discomfort in her expression, but she merely waved him off with a smile.

Cass followed Tristan out of the Fort, riding closely behind him. Tristan glanced back to her a while into their journey, and though he may not have liked the thought of putting Cass in any sort of danger, he had to admit that Cass looked as if she could take care of herself.

As they made their way back to the Fort, Tristan was relieved to find that they had seen nothing unusual and met no Woads. Cass had been in no danger at all. Though she'd enjoyed the ride- something that even she thought that that was an odd notion- Cass was almost disappointed at the same fact.

It wasn't as if she wanted to kill people, she'd like anything but; however, Cass was very much aware of the time constraints she was under. Soon she would have to be convincing enough to talk Arthur and the others into letting her join them on their missions. To do that she knew that she'd have to prove herself. And she quickly realised that she was going to have to figure out some way to do that as soon as possible.

**Author's Note: Hiiiiiiiiiii guys. :) Just started my new job on Wednesday, and I love it. :D So I thought I'd give you guys a chapter that's been long overdue. :)**

**Not really sure about this chapter; I kept going through phases of liking bits and then hating other bits... So it's a bit of jumble... :P Anyways, I hope you like it. :)**

**Anyways, can I ask you guys something? Well, I'm going to assume that you said yes and ask it anyway. If you thought you were being plagiarised, as in someone was hand-picking your ideas and shoving them a little rearranged and a sometimes even only slightly reworded; what would you do?**

**Kit xx**


	60. Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

Cass found herself idly playing with one of the unruly braids in Tristan's dark hair as they sat leaning against _Tristan's Tree_. It felt like it had been so long since they'd been sat together like that, but that day, as they had returned from another early morning scouting mission, they rode up to the training hill and decided to take in the warmth that the weather had brought.

Every morning that week that Tristan had headed out scouting, Cass had joined him. And, much to Cass' chagrin and Tristan's pleasure, they had still come across nothing that was of any interest or suspicion. That in itself though, had the pair wondering why the Woads were being so quiet recently.

Cass sighed, and the Knight beside her turned to face her. She didn't look at him though, and he knew why. There were things playing on her mind that would be brought to a swift conclusion later that day. In Tristan's opinion, they had waited long enough for the execution of those plotters still alive, and he knew there that Cass agreed with him.

But she had seemed a little distant all morning. And, in truth, she was feeling somewhat... Well, _she_ couldn't even figure out how she felt. _It's a _good_ thing that they're being executed, _Cass thought, her fingers dropping from where they had entwined lightly with Tristan's dark hair._ Isn't it...? Of course it is. They would have killed Arthur- they almost killed Tristan... They _deserve_ it._

But something in the back of Cass' mind was nagging at her. She guessed it was just her 21st Century views on the death penalty. As in, she didn't believe in it... Well, she thought she didn't. But, of all the people deserving so a harsh punishment, Cass couldn't help but think that those four plotters were at the top of the list.

"We should probably go..." Cass said quietly, her voice seemingly distant.

After looking at her, and judging her far-away expression, the silent Knight gave her a nod in reply. He stood and then helped Cass to her feet. She gave him a vague smile in thanks as they set off slowly back to the Fort.

It was to be another few hours before the executions would take place. And even with that time looming over her, Cass still couldn't decide if she could face watching them die. Not saying a word, she sat in her usual seat around the corner table in the tavern, the Knights in their respective places beside her. All of them noticed her mood as the time drew closer and closer.

The Fort was abuzz with news of the execution though, and the quiet, corner table seemed to seat the only people immune to the general excitement surrounding them. The nature of the plot, the reason for that day's execution, had still been kept well away from the public eye.

And, for that reason, conversations flying around the tavern and the other small gatherings seen around the Fort settled on wonderings and speculation over what those prisoners had done to deserve such a fate. They understood, of course, that Arthur and the Knights had something to do with that, as they were residing over the executions; however, no one could seem to settle on the exact reason for the day's proceedings.

But hearing their prattle and ill-thought-out suggestions only frustrated Cass. She sighed, something that did not go unnoticed by Tristan. After an hour of silent contemplation, her mind was made up. And she knew that, after all that they had done, all that they had put her though; there was no way that she couldn't watch their executions.

Cass turned her head to the side and met the eyes of the equally quiet Knight at her side. The smile he received this time, however, was real and one of a woman who had her mind set firmly on the present. Cass and the Knights ate in silence, really just killing time before the killing began.

It wasn't long before the group were standing in the square, the plotters in chains before them, surrounded by most other occupants of the Fort also. As commander, Arthur was the one to conduct the proceedings, and he began by listing the crimes that the four had committed.

Gasps were heard drawn in from the crowd of onlookers; and even though she didn't need to be reminded of what they'd done, Cass was glad that it finally put an end to the ridiculous speculation and assumptions being made. Blackmail and multiple accounts of attempted murder; that was what Arthur had said. _How true_, Cass thought sadly.

When Arthur had finished, he asked if any of the plotters had anything to say for themselves. And, as vocal as always, they did.

"Someone will get you eventually, you know Arthur, and when they do, we'll be smiling," Rosach said bitterly.

Cass stared at him, as did everyone else. _Last words and he couldn't even be original..._ Cass thought. _Well, actually... He _might _be being original... _She concluded, remembering how far in the future she was from, and how many time those words may have been uttered as last ones after this.

"Yes, well in that case, if you ever do, you'll be smiling when you're buried in the earth," Lancelot answered, holding back his smirk.

Cass almost smiled at their still almost-insistence that they would kill Arthur. _Will they never give in? _she wondered. And, in fact, they even went on to stick to their convictions as the sword dropped. But as that sword fell, Cass felt so much better than she'd thought she would. And she couldn't help but feel a little strange about it.

The sight of it had not been pretty. Blood splattered and stained the ground as their heads started to roll. But it was like a huge relief had washed over her, shifting something that had been burdening her since the plotters had approached her from their protective shadows.

Cass' hand unconsciously went to the scar on her chest as she stared at the decapitated bodies. She only realised that she was doing it when Tristan, who had been beside her for the entire execution, rested his hand on the small of her back. After a moment, Cass turned her head to meet his eyes. And Tristan gave her a look that she knew so well; one that was questioning if she was alright.

"I'm fine," she replied, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

And she was fine, though she was almost getting a little sick of telling Tristan that. She knew that he meant well; that he just wanted to protect her. But there was something about the plotters finally being gone that seemed to release her from whatever she had felt that had saddened or angered her.

The day that continued almost followed the same pattern as what she would call her 'normal' day. Cass joined the Knights and Arthur in their training, proving to them yet again that her skills had improved greatly.

It _was_ very much her normal day following the execution; apart from one, glaring exception. Because that day was the day that Cass had finally decided she would ask Arthur if she could join them on their missions. And her opportunity arose when a message was received, ordering the Knights to depart for another mission.

Apart from the flash of fear that she always felt when the Knights were to leave for a mission, Cass saw her chance to join them. But she also saw that chance slipping away as the Knights made their way to the Round Table to discuss the newest task that Rome had set for them.

As she watched them depart from the tavern, Cass knew what she had to do. And she understood that there was probably only one way that she was going to be able to do it. Leaving a five minute gap, Cass followed the Knights on their path to where she then waited, outside the door to the Knights' conference room. At least another twenty minutes passed before the Dagonet opened the door to see the small woman waiting outside.

He blinked, and, one hand still resting on the door, said, "Cass?"

"Hi," she replied quietly, offering him a small smile.

Tristan, who had been behind Dagonet, looked around the tall Knight with an almost-unnoticeable frown on his features.

"I- I'm actually here to see Arthur, I need to speak with him before you leave," Cass said, her eyes flickering between the two Knights in front of her.

A moment later, Tristan gave the woman a nod, and both he and Dagonet continued down the hall passed her. The other Knights followed, each, in turn, throwing her a questioning glance; but rather than explaining, Cass simply smiled slightly at them instead. Lancelot was the last to leave the conference room, aside from Arthur, and he shut the door after him.

"Were you waiting for me? I'm _flattered_, Cass," Lancelot said with a smirk.

Cass rolled her eyes at the man and chose to ignore his insinuation.

But, knowing that there was another exit from the conference room, Cass asked, "Is Arthur still in there?"

One of Lancelot's dark eyebrows rose questioningly, but he nodded in response anyway.

"Thanks," she said, watching the curly-haired man as he walked away.

As soon as he'd turned the corner though, Cass turned back to the door. Before she really even knew what she was doing, Cass' knuckles were knocking against the door. She wasn't left waiting for too long before Arthur's voice came through the tall, solid door.

"Come in," was his slightly muffled reply.

Taking a deep breath, Cass slowly pushed open the door and stepped inside the room. Arthur looked up from the number of maps he seemed to be going over again, and his eyes betrayed his confusion as to her presence.

"Cass?" he asked, just as Dagonet had.

She gave him the same small smile that she had given the others as they'd passed her in the corridor.

"Erm, if it's alright by you, can I have a word?"

Frowning slightly, Arthur nodded and replied, "Of course; why don't you take a seat."

Cass gave him a nod in return and sat down where she had with Tristan the last time she had been in this room.

"Now," Arthur started, once she was settled.

"What is this about?"

"Well, I..."

Taking another deep breath, Cass decided that it would be better to just come right out and ask him. She was sure that if she didn't then she would probably soon talk herself out of it and convince herself that it would be better to ask at a different time, or in a different way.

"I wanted to ask you if I could... I want to go with you and the others on this mission. On all of them, in fact."

The silence that followed was, by far, one of the longest and most awkward that Cass had felt in a long time. Arthur stared at her the entire time, frowning slightly. None of the Knights would ever have considered this. No matter how good she was in their training sessions, no one would have ever even thought about it.

Not with her and Tristan. He would never allow Cass to join them; and Arthur quickly realised that that was why she hadn't asked _Tristan_. It was why she'd come straight to him.

But Arthur wasn't sure if he could let Cass join them. Besides the obvious issue of the missions putting them all in genuine danger anyway; with Cass there, all of the Knights would be more easily distracted, and not focussed on what could, and would most likely, be life or death situations.

"Cass..." Arthur started with the tiniest of sighs.

"What's brought this on?"

She knew that she couldn't tell him the real reason that she wanted to go with them on their missions; it might jeopardise too much.

Biting her lip slightly, Cass answered, "Well... I would have asked sooner, but, everything, with the plot, I mean... Just seemed to get in the way... I want to help..."

She ran her hand thought her ebony curls in slight frustration at being unable to find the right words.

"I am aware that you can take care of yourself; however, it would be impossible for you to join us-"

"Look; you know that I'm good enough. You know that I can fight... So, what is it that's stopping you from saying yes?" Cass asked seriously.

"Tristan would never let you leave the leave the Fort knowing that we're headed into danger," Arthur answered truthfully.

It was Cass' turn to frown, it seemed. _What can I say to that?_ she thought blankly.

"I can do it. _Please_, Arthur," Cass asked, her eyes meeting his seriously.

"I cannot allow it, Cass. It would be too dangerous."

Scowling, she stood up, still staring at Arthur. She turned away from the half-Roman, half-British commander for a moment, not really sure what to say. The only thing that she could think of was the truth. And how could she tell him _that_?

She quickly realised that it was the only thing that she _could_ do though. _Desperate times call for desperate measures_, Cass thought as she turned back around to face Arthur, placing her hand on the Round Table.

"I didn't want to have to bring this up, Arthur... but, you know that I'm from the future... And that I know a lot of things that have yet to happen here, right?"

Arthur nodded while Cass paused; and he waited to see where Cass was headed with this.

"Well," she took a breath.

"What if I knew that some of the Knights were going to die?"

Arthur didn't say anything, but something flickered across his face that wasn't a pleasant expression.

"And what if I could stop that from happening? If you were me, would you just let that happen? Or would you want to be there so that you _could_ stop it?"

**Author's Note: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! :D Did my English Literature exam on Thursday, not that that went well- because I'm pretty damn sure I'm getting a D in that exam... Annnnyyyyways, so that means that I officially never have to do ANY work or anything school related EVER again. Bye bye, Alsager School! :D I had a whole happy moment in the car on the way home, in which I rocked out all the way through town with music on full blast. Yes, I **_**did**_** get weird looks... Particularly when I got stopped at the traffic lights... Oh well. :P**

**I'll admit, I got a little stuck on this chapter, but it's here now anyway. So I hope you like it! :)**

**In regards to the (suspected) plagiarism, I've decided that, since seem to be shite and are incapable of doing anything; and, since this girl is aware that I know what she's doing, and is probably reading this now, I was going to speak to her about her story, but, in as cowardly a fashion as I can think possible, she's blocked me. Now that's just pathetic. She just needs to get a life and stop using my idea to write her story.**

**Ammendment: She's either unblocked me since, or there was a problem with in showing the review. Who knows whih one it was. :/**

**Kit xx**


	61. The Hardest Decision

Cass' words echoed in Arthur's mind._ "What if I knew that some of the Knights were going to die?"_ It was his worst nightmare; and he dreaded the thought that one of the Knights might lose their lives every day. If Cass knew that just one of them was to die, let alone _more_, and he didn't let her join them; Arthur wondered if he could ever live with himself for letting one of his men die knowing that there had been a way to stop it.

He knew the answer before his mind even reached that question though. _No_. The commander would rather die himself than have his men, who had been forced into this service to Rome, be killed. Arthur's jaw clenched as he stared back at the woman, her eyes having never left his.

"Cass... What is it that you know exactly-"

"Arthur, please," Cass interrupted in a whisper, her frown darkening.

"I can't tell you that. I can't tell you anything that I know. And you _can't_ tell the others what I've told you. It might change too much; and, discounting the deaths that I _will_ stop from happening, the way things turn out... They're not all that bad," she finished, choosing her words very carefully.

A silence filled the gap between them; but, this time, Cass did not break it. This time, she knew that there was nothing else that she could say to convince Arthur. She just hoped, for the sake of those that she loved, that her argument would be enough.

With a sigh, Arthur spoke, finally interrupting that long pause, "Alright."

Something in her filled with joy; joy that she'd finally succeeded in the one goal that she'd set for herself a long time ago. She'd finally be in a position to help the Knights as they had always been helping her. She would finally be in a position to stop her nightmares from becoming reality.

"I have a condition though," Arthur warned.

Quieting the happiness that swelled in her from this success, Cass paused to listen to what Arthur had to say.

"You must do as I command, even if it means leaving the fight behind."

Cass would have fought against that part of Arthur's request. She would have done, had she not known the exact days that Dagonet, Lancelot and Tristan were supposed to die; had she not known the only time that it was desperately important for her to do as she must. So instead of arguing, Cass merely nodded and waited for Arthur to continue.

"You must try to keep yourself out of danger; with you in less danger, the Knights will be less concerned about you, and therefore will be in less danger themselves."

Cass blinked. She hadn't really thought about that. _How much of a distraction _will_ I be to the Knights...? To Tristan...?_ she wondered. It was something she'd wished she'd considered more seriously; and something that would worry her as much as their safety always would. As Cass gave another nod, she couldn't help but think that she would have to pay particular attention to that condition.

"Good. Now the only problem we will have is getting Tristan to agree."

Cass frowned again. She knew that this would be a problem. And she couldn't see how they were going to persuade him to agree with this. What she had been hoping for, was that if he argued against Arthur's decision- or more like _when_ he argued against this decision- Arthur could overrule him and give it as an order. But somehow, Cass got the impression that this was really _not_ going to happen as she'd imagined it might.

"Cass?" Arthur's voice sounded through her deep thoughts.

Snapping out of her frowning daze, Cass looked up at the commander who was about to become just as much hers as he was the Knights'.

"We have to go now."

"Of course," Cass replied as Arthur stood.

"Come," Arthur said, gathering those maps that he'd been going over into rolls and stuffing them into a bag.

Cass took a deep breath and followed Arthur as he headed out of the conference room. Thoughts were swirling through Cass' mind faster than she could even stop to settle on them. But as they stepped into the courtyard beyond, one thought managed to land.

"Wait, Arthur," Cass said quickly.

The commander stopped walking for a second, and turned to face the woman who was about to become his newest recruit.

"Is it alright if I just get changed... and get my things?" she asked.

Arthur gave her a small nod before replying, "It'll give me some time to speak with the others."

A little unsurely, Cass nodded in return. That was when they separated; Arthur heading to the stables, while Cass half-ran to her room to gather the things that she would need. But when she arrived at her room, of course, she found that she had no idea what she was supposed to be bringing.

Slightly frustrated with herself, Cass tipped the black shoulder bag she'd brought with her when she'd arrived in this time upside down, emptying it of the paints it contained. Letting them roll to the ground, she picked up her black dress, choosing to pack it in case she was in desperate need of a change of clothing. _I have to get some more training... Or, I suppose, _mission_ clothes..._ she thought with a frown.

Dropping her bag for a moment, Cass yanked off the newer, pale green dress that she was wearing and slipped into what were now her mission clothes. She swung her cloak over her shoulders too, suspecting that sleeping outdoors was a likely- and cold- possibility. After re-lacing her boots, Cass grabbed her swords and belted them around her waist.

Since she rarely ever found occasion to take them anywhere, her daggers were almost a mystery to her. Cass considered keeping them carefully in her boots, however, she reconsidered when she remembered how clumsy she could be, and how likely she would be, in that case, to stab herself accidentally. And so she ended up stowing them in a part of her belt that she hadn't realised she could do.

Finally, she took hold of her bow and the arrows that she had, and left the room. She pondered on leaving the bow behind, thinking that she might be more dangerous to the Knights with it than any enemy; but she dismissed that thought, and carried her bow with her anyway. _It's better to have it just in case_, she thought. _Besides, I don't have to _use_ it._

While Cass had gone to her room, Arthur had walked to the stables more slowly than he usually would. He knew that he'd have to tell his men that Cass would be joining them; a task, in regards to Tristan, he viewed as nigh impossible. That any of his Knights were forced to go on these missions was a horrible thing.

What was worse _here_ was that Cass was volunteering. _Volunteering_. How was he going to make his Knights understand why he was letting Cass join them; why he _needed_ to let Cass join them. She was right that he couldn't tell them about what she knew; no man should know about the day they were to die.

As he entered the stables, Arthur found his men saddling their horses for the journey to come. There was no feeling of anything unusual amongst the men. _Of course not_, Arthur thought. _I haven't said anything yet_.

"Arthur, _finally_," Lancelot said as he adjusted the position of his saddlebags.

"You were a long time," Galahad said, the question implied in his words.

Arthur threw a sideways glance at the young Knight and took a deep breath. As their commander, he had often had to inform them of hard decisions that even he had not liked. However, _this_, would be the hardest thing that he would have to tell the Knights- Tristan, especially.

With this revelation, Arthur knew that he was going to have to remind them that this was _his_ decision. And he hated that thought more than anything; particularly since the foundation for his entire relationship with his men had been one of equality rather than hierarchy.

"Knights," Arthur began, waiting until they had all paused in their actions before he continued.

The fact that Tristan seemed particularly intent to hear what he had to say, knowing that it regarded what Cass had spoken to him about, only made Arthur all the more anxious. However, the commander stilled his own feelings for a moment, masking his face as his scout so often did.

"There will be a slight change in today's mission."

Each Knight looked at him quizzically and waited for him to finish.

"Cass will be joining us."

If it were possible to be more still than they already had been, then that was what happened. Because everyone in the stables froze. Each man had his own opinion on this news; but all of them were preoccupied with focussing on their silent scout's reaction.

Tristan stood as immobile as he had as soon as those words had left Arthur's mouth. One fist was clenched around his horse's reins, held so tightly that his knuckles were white. His face was formed into the mask that he wore daily, but each man could see the anger seeping through the cracks.

"No," was the only word that slipped through in an angry sliver.

Arthur closed his eyes for a mere moment at that reply. He'd known this would happen; and he'd been dreading it.

"Tristan-" Arthur started.

"No. She will _not _be coming with us. She almost got killed because of the danger you put her in by making her continue with those plotters, Arthur. I will _not_ allow you to place her in anymore danger."

"Tristan, she came to me. It was her idea," Arthur answered calmly.

That seemed to only incense the Knight who usually kept his emotions so guarded.

"I don't care, Arthur. She's _not_ leaving this Fort with us, even if that means that I have to tie her to Vanora and all of her children. She is _not_ coming with us."

There was such deadly seriousness, anger and the tiniest hint of fear filling those deep brown eyes that none would have dared argue with him. Only Arthur knew that he had to. For the sake of his men. Men that Cass could save.

"Tristan, this was not meant as an option. Cass _is_ coming with us."

That seemed to be enough for the usually calm and quiet Knight as he dropped his horse's reins and stepped around her. One of his hands hovered over the hilt of his sword, but he pointedly refused to touch it. The threat was still there though. And all of the other Knights could see it.

It wasn't at all that Tristan didn't care for Arthur, or the men around him; his brothers. Because he cared for them deeply. He just cared for Cass more. And he wasn't going to see her put in constant danger like they were when out on a mission. His brothers knew that. Arthur too, could see clearly what Tristan was going through; it was why he didn't blame him for the temper he so wanted to lash out at him with.

No one had said anything since Tristan's hand had drifted over to the hilt of his blade. And, as it was, an unnatural silence took up in the stables, holding both threat and danger. Love and betrayal.

But before anything could come of this stance, this silence; the group were interrupted when the petite woman pushed open the door to the stables and meekly stepped inside. The tension that she noticed immediately could have been cut by the edge of one her unused daggers. What feeling that had been nerves, soon turned to fear as her eyes shot to where Tristan's hand had almost reached.

"What the Hell is going on?" she asked with a frown, surprising herself that she'd be so bold in so deadly and delicate a situation as she'd just walked into.

Tristan's dark eyes flickered to Cass and she saw everything that the Knights had. The danger. The pain. And that tiny little spark of fear.

"You are not coming with us," he said, anger still brimming in his tone.

Cass' heart sank. _This is all because of me?_ she thought sadly.

"Tristan, please-"

But the angry Knight wouldn't let Cass finish either, interrupting her as he had his commander.

"Arthur, we _have_ to be here; she doesn't. Don't put her in the danger that's killed so many of our brothers."

There was no answer that he could give that would not anger the scout further, Arthur knew. But before he could even start thinking of a reply, Cass found one for him.

"This was _my_ choice," Cass started.

Seeing that Tristan was about to interrupt her again, she shot him a hard look that insisted she be allowed to finish, before continuing.

"I know you mean for the best; but so do I. And that's why you're going to let me come with you."

Tristan scowled at her, and the others threw her questioning glances, only barely daring to take their eyes from where the danger lay. From Tristan. Arthur was the only one who remained completely focussed, knowing what Cass knew, and knowing that there was no choice _but_ to let her come with them.

"Please... I need to come with you," she finished, almost pleadingly.

"It's _dangerous_, Cass. This isn't anything like training," Dagonet's voice came, surprising everyone.

Tristan, for one, was relieved that he wasn't the only one able to see sense. He wasn't the only one that didn't want Cass to be on this- or _any_- of their missions.

Cass' frown flickered to Dagonet as she answered, "I know. I'll be fine. I can handle it."

Dagonet couldn't help but give her a doubtful look in return, forcing her to elaborate.

"I _have_ killed before, remember? And I was a great deal less skilled in fighting at that point in time than I am now."

That was a fact that neither Dagonet or Tristan could argue with. And though it lessened a little of what Dagonet felt; Tristan was still totally against the idea of the woman he loved being put in so much danger.

"There is a very real chance that you could die, should you join us," Lancelot put in, for once more solemn than the overly-flirtatious Knight they were all used to.

"I know," she whispered back.

"But there are a few things that I need to change. And I will not back down on this. Even if it means that I have to follow you all the after you leave; I'm _going_."

All eyes landed seriously on the woman who was still frowning at them; frowning at the situation.

"Do you honestly think that I would have brought this up, that I would risk this if it was not extremely important?"

It was clear that Cass was not going to provide them with any further details in what importance her joining them held; but that she had mentioned it at all had the Knights' minds whirring.

Eventually, some of the Knights started to give Cass reluctant nods- much to her relief. Tristan still remained as silent as ever though; and it seemed that he would still take further persuading if he was going to allow Cass to ride out with them. His hand, however, was no longer hovering over the hilt of his sword as it had been, but rather, clenched into a fist at his side.

Cass took a few cautious steps towards him, carefully studying the expression on his face that he was trying to pull back under his control. She placed a hand gently on his forearm, and stared at him worriedly until he met her gaze.

"Tristan; you once promised me that you weren't going anywhere without me. This is one of those instances where I have to take you up on that. Please understand that there is a reason I'm doing this."

And in a whisper that only he could hear, she added, "One that links directly to the nightmares I have when you all leave."

Something behind Tristan's eyes flashed at that, but he gave her no reply. They stayed there for what seemed like hours, neither moving or saying a word. Tristan was the one to break what kept them locked there by merely turning his back on Cass and going back to readying his horse for the ride. Barely keeping her mouth from dropping open, Cass stared after him for a moment before looking to Arthur.

She met his bright blue eyes and saw in them that she should ready her own horse. And that meant that Tristan was accepting what had been decided. He didn't _like_ it, they both knew, but he _was_ accepting it.

**Author's Note: Apparently, my finishing my exams means quicker updates. Especially since I'm part way through the next chapter already too. Good times guys.**

**Also, I got sunburnt on one side of my face today- yes JUST one side. So, from the left, I look my normal pale self, yet, from the right, I have bright red patches. I mean, really? That's just something that would so typically happen to me. ¬¬ :P**

**Kit xx**


	62. Acceptance Is A Difficult Thing To Gain

They saddled their horses in silence. No one wanted to risk speaking and sending Tristan back into that barely concealed rage again. Of course, Tristan was ready first, and walked his dappled-grey horse out of her stall, quickly mounting her. The scout mumbled something to his commander before riding out of the stables.

He hadn't even looked at Cass since he'd turned away from her. And the way he rode away without a word pulled at Cass' heart, but she couldn't help but think, _shouldn't I have known that this would happen? Shouldn't I have been more prepared?_

Cass sighed, finally hoisting herself up into the saddle that she'd fitted onto Kaydin. Her eyes trailed over each Knight until they settled on Arthur, who she found was doing much the same. Their eyes met and he gave her and the others a simple nod, before turning his horse and heading out after Tristan. The others started to follow, and Cass spurred her horse after them.

As they rode through the Fort, it was easy to see the odd looks that the company were receiving, simply because Cass was travelling with him. The gates were still open from when Tristan had ridden through. _The guards must know that they- we- are headed out on a mission_, Cass thought.

Getting herself comfortable as they rode was not too hard, but she suspected that it would get harder much further into the journey. As they rode further on, it suddenly hit Cass that this was the furthest she'd been from the Fort since she'd arrived in Roman Britain.

It was strange to think that, for a number of months, she'd literally remained in the Fort. And yet, unlike in the 21st Century, she really didn't have that great a desire to leave the place she called home- apart from during these missions, that was. Cass let out a small sigh as the group rode onward, finally catching sight of the scout who'd ridden ahead in silence.

It seemed that they rode on tirelessly until the sky started to darken. And that was when Cass realised how right she'd been about so long a ride. It _was_ quite painful. She didn't complain though, and simply hoped that she'd soon get used to it- and soon.

It wasn't long then that they stopped to make camp in a clearing. Tristan doubled back to them, and dismounted as they did. But he wouldn't speak to any of them; not properly anyway. The scout merely muttered something to Arthur about going hunting.

Cass stared at his back as he walked out into the trees that lined the clearing. She saw Galahad follow him, also leaving without even throwing a glance her way. She couldn't help but let another sigh slip out from between her slightly parted lips. So after unsaddling Kaydin, Cass took a seat over by where Lancelot was busy making a fire.

"Anything I can do?" she asked, tilting her head at the curly-haired Knight.

He shook his head and continued in what he was doing, refusing to give her a verbal response.

"Oh no, _you're_ not going to ignore me too, are you?"

Lancelot paused in what he was doing, and took a deep breath. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he turned his head to where Cass was sat.

"I'm just not sure how good an idea this is."

Cass dropped her head into her hand in a gesture of mixed frustration and sadness. She _had _to do this to save them. She knew that; she just wished that they knew that too.

"Seems like that's a shared sentiment..." Cass replied sadly.

"This really _is_ important; what I'm doing, you know."

Lancelot sighed again as a flame flickered into life. And as soon as that had happened, he stood and turned to face Cass properly.

"We just want you to be safe. And this puts you about as far from that as possible," he replied seriously.

"I know," she whispered as he walked away.

_Is _no one_ going to treat me the same way anymore?_ Cass thought with a small scowl. Of course, she only felt much worse about the situation as, when Dagonet took a seat beside the fire he sat on a rock on the opposite side of it to Cass. The crackling fire between them meant that there was no chance of a conversation beginning any time soon.

Frowning, Cass stood up and turned her back on the fire. She made her way back over to where she had left Kaydin earlier.

"At least _you_ don't hate me," she whispered, stroking her hand across Kaydin's muzzle.

He gave her an affectionate nip as she pulled the brush out that she'd hastily stowed in her bag before leaving the stables. She was half way through brushing him when a voice sounded from behind her.

"They'll come around."

The voice had startled Cass, her head whipping round to see Gawain standing with one arm hooked around a stack of wood to fuel the fire.

"I'm not so sure," Cass answered quietly after a while.

"Tristan definitely will."

"That's the angriest I've ever seen him," she replied doubtfully.

She paused, looking to the long grass at her feet. The frown on her face scrunched her eyebrows together.

"He wouldn't even look at me."

Cass felt Gawain's hand on her shoulder but she didn't want to look back up at him. She felt awful. She needed to be there on the Knights' missions to save them when the time came; but she couldn't help but hate the way that this was affecting Tristan.

"Surely you know why," Gawain said.

As she folded her arms, Cass thought about it. She had many suspicions, and all of them led her to believe that Tristan didn't want to see her hurt. He was so protective over her. _That's what it is. It must be,_ Cass thought confusedly.

"He doesn't want me to get hurt," Cass answered with a small shrug.

Gawain's hand squeezed her shoulder, making Cass' eyes dart back up to him.

"As much as I never thought I'd be saying this about Tristan; he really does love you. That's why he's acting the way he is."

Cass stared at the man as he released her shoulder and walked over to the fire. Someone had said something like that before; Galahad, she'd thought it was, but she'd taken it lightly and not really considered the seriousness of his comment. Now that Gawain had said something similar though, it really made Cass think about it.

As she continued to brush Kaydin, her mind rolled over what had been said. Cass knew how _she_ felt about Tristan; how she loved him. But something in her, in her insecurities, had always wondered if Tristan was the same. And before thinking about it, Cass hadn't noticed that she'd never actually told Tristan how she felt. Blinking, Cass sighed. _What a time to think of this_, she thought as she finally finished running the brush over Kaydin's back.

It wasn't long after that that Tristan and Galahad returned and deposited what they'd caught by the fireside. Again, Tristan refused to look at her; though at least Galahad gave her a small smile this time as they set off to ready the animals to be cooked.

For her part, instead of trying to wait for any of them to speak to her, Cass sat back down where she had done before. She wanted to put herself to some use, but with barely any of them speaking to her, she didn't even know how to ask if she _could_ be of any help.

Resting her chin on her hand, Cass found herself staring into the fire as the others moved around her, doing as they were so used to doing. Eventually, the men started to cook what Tristan and Galahad had caught- a task that Cass didn't even volunteer to help with, knowing that she'd more likely poison everyone than prepare it correctly.

Darkness set in and the moon soon rose high above their camp. The only glow that illuminated the group as they sat in a circle was that of the fire in the centre of it. It seemed that the quietness that had been with them since Arthur had announced Cass was joining them still held the Knights silent.

Only Gawain and Bors seemed to have accepted that Cass was a part of their group; only they seemed to have really forgiven her - if that was the right word for it- for joining them. But it just so happened that a few choice words from Bors had the silence breaking, and the tension rising as sharply as the cracking flames.

"I'm glad she's here," Bors said to Gawain; not loudly, but with Bors nothing was _ever_ quiet.

"It'll be interesting to see how well she does if- _when_ we get in a fight," he finished with a laugh.

And as soon as those words had left his mouth, the silent scout was on his feet. Tristan's face was unreadable, but his stance showed hostility. With one harsh and solid glare at Bors, and then another at Cass, he left the fireside and walked off out of the clearing.

A gloomy frown on her face, Cass stood. She followed him quickly, knowing that if she didn't catch him soon, then she wouldn't catch him at all. Tripping slightly in a concealed and grassy hole, Cass hurried after him until she found Tristan with his back to her, resting one hand on a tree beside him.

She walked slowly over to him then, glad that he had stopped. For his part, Tristan knew that she was there; even without his expertly-trained ears, Cass was so loud that she might as well have been a blind horse stumbling through a full tavern. But Tristan didn't turn to face her. He just stood facing away from her, trying to keep his emotions under control. He'd walked away to keep himself from snapping; and now that Cass had followed him, he wasn't sure that he would be able to.

"Tristan," Cass said, in what sounded like a sigh.

He didn't turn; or even make any sort of move to respond.

"Tristan, please. Talk to me- look at me," she said, her voice evidently filled with sadness.

He did look around at her then, his deep eyes full of anger and pain.

"Please," she repeated.

After a long pause, with both of them just staring at each other, Tristan spoke, his voice strained.

"What is it that you want me to say?"

Cass' heart sank. _He's really not going to make this easy for me is he?_ she thought, depressed.

"Tristan, I'm not doing this to hurt you. I'm not doing it lightly either."

"I don't think you've really considered this," he answered, his voice much the same.

"Yes, I have," Cass replied, feeling the tears creep into her eyes but being powerless to stop them.

"If you had then you wouldn't have come to the conclusion you've made."

Tears now slipping down her cheeks, Cass said, "You have no idea how important the decision I made is. Please stop making this harder than it already is."

"You shouldn't be on these missions. _We_ shouldn't be on these missions. The difference is that we have to be, and you don't. You have a choice, Cass. And you should be where it is safe."

Choking back a sob, Cass whispered, "Don't make me let things happen that I know can stop."

Another silence grew between them, only to have Tristan reply, "I'd rather that than to have you in danger."

"No, please, listen to me-"

"I can't have you in a position that means you could get hurt. I _won't_."

"You don't understand-"

"Yes, I do, Cass."

"Then let me stay-"

"No-"

"Please-"

"_No_."

"Tristan, I _love_ you- don't make me watch you die!"

Cass' hand slapped over her mouth as soon as she'd let the words slip through. She hadn't meant to say that. She had meant to say anything but. However, this fight had taken all of her sense from her and her reasoning had just slipped out. And now all that Cass could do was stare at Tristan, trying to read his expressionless face.

She let her hand fall from her mouth; she let the tears fall too. _How could I have just said that? _Cass thought, her mind whirling. _What's wrong with me? I shouldn't..._ But she never got to finish that thought, because what Tristan did next blindsided her completely.

Moving more quickly than Cass could have seen coming; Tristan stepped towards her. His hands either side of her face, he pulled her into kiss that she had not expected at all. The kiss was more hurried and passionate than any they had shared for a long time; and when he pulled back, Tristan's face remained only inches away from Cass'. He stared at her intently; deep brown eyes glinting in the moonlight as he brushed away her tears.

"Don't worry about me," Tristan said seriously.

A short pause later, Cass whispered back, "That's like me telling you not to worry about me."

Tristan tilted his head at her, staring at her in the dark.

"I guess that means we're stuck then," Cass said after a while.

A small nod was the only reply that Tristan gave before he leant back into her and pressed their lips together once more. _We may be stuck_, she thought. _But at least we're talking again._

**Author's Note: Hey guys. :D Since I seem to be writing much faster now, I'm going to try and stop myself from posting as quickly as I have in the past few days. So, in view of that, I'm going to say that I will post the next chapter if I can get six reviews on this one. Hopefully that should help me pace my posting now... :)**

**Today's random thought: Oh crap, that helicopter looks like a fish that's eating people. D:**

**(Yeah, don't ask... :P)**

**Kit xx**

**Edit: 7 and a 1/2 hours later and I really walked into that one, didn't I? Six reiews already? Here I was, thinking, "Yeah, that'll take about a week..." Apparently not. :P Not that I'm not grateful, but it may take me 'til Friday to ge the next one up (I'm really busy all day tomorrow :/) Hope that's okay wit you guys. :)**

**Kit xx**


	63. The First Fight

When Cass and Tristan returned to the clearing, they found that the others were still sitting around the fire; though the atmosphere there was no more pleasant than it had been before. In fact, it looked as if the men had just had some sort of argument.

But on seeing Tristan's hand on the small of Cass' back and the pair's relaxed appearances, angry expressions softened slightly. And whatever subject they had been discussing- though both Tristan and Cass knew that it was her joining them- was dropped immediately. On seeing that _Tristan_ had managed to accept what Cass was doing, the others could barely keep a hold of their own argument

Because if Tristan had forgiven her, then they knew that Cass' reasoning must have been sound. It must have been enough to convince their scout, who had been most against Cass joining them. Arthur, in particular, was glad to see Tristan's reaction have changed so drastically; and, when the Knight met his commander's eye, he gave a simple nod that he knew Arthur would understand.

Arthur nodded in return; and it seemed as if the matter of what had passed between them earlier was now in the past. All of the Knights still wondered what it was that Cass had said to bring Tristan around to her point of view. But they also knew from their silence that they weren't likely to find out.

From the return of Cass and Tristan, however, the camp simply had more of an amiable mood to it. Conversation took over where that awkward silence had been before, and it almost seemed as if the Knights had begun to act as they normally would. _Almost_, anyway. Because each of them still had their own opinion on Cass joining them. They just chose to keep that to themselves now instead.

With everyone speaking to each other once more, it was far easier for Arthur to organise the watch. They decided, since there were now eight of them, that it would be simpler to divide the watch into four sets of two. That way, it would be easier for all of them to remain safe whilst having a fuller night's sleep.

Tristan and Cass found themselves paired together, though not for the reason that one might have thought. They found themselves paired together so that Tristan's expert ears and eyes might compensate for the fact that this was Cass' first watch. They found themselves paired together so that Tristan could teach her.

Whilst the others slept, Cass and Tristan remained awake, assigned as they were to the first watch. Tristan tried to explain to Cass what it was that she needed to both look and listen for. And Cass had initially thought that she might have realised most of the things that he would mention. However, as it turned out, when Tristan began, Cass discovered that she knew _far_ less than she thought she did.

For a couple of hours, Cass and Tristan circulated the camp, the clearing, in silence. They listened and watched for things that, thankfully, made no appearance during their watch. All the while, both of their minds were preoccupied however. Cass kept throwing sidelong glances at the Knight, trying to judge his expression.

She still wasn't exactly sure how he had taken the news that she had let slip. Tristan's expression gave no clues either as he seemed to be ignoring the subject. But, since he was carefully hiding all emotion from his face, Cass had to just stick with her assumptions. The bad thing about that though, was that they led her to believe that something wasn't quite right.

For his part, Tristan's mind was also dwelling on Cass' accidental revelation, though he would never let it show. He almost felt a little bad about his reaction to her joining them now. _All I've been doing is trying to protect her, when all she's been trying to do is the same for me._ He sighed as he stared out into the landscape beyond the clearing, pushing those thoughts from his mind.

The pair soon woke Dagonet and Bors for what they hoped would be an equally quiet watch. Bidding the two Knights goodnight, Tristan and Cass settled themselves down next to each other to sleep. For minutes, they lay beside each other staring upward at the stars. Cass was sure she'd never seen so many before, but all her thoughts kept drifting back to was Tristan's reaction.

Eventually, she couldn't stop herself from whispering, "It's not just you, you know... Well you might as well know..."

Tristan turned his head to her and met her sad gaze questioningly.

"It's two of the others as well."

She paused, letting out a deep sigh.

"I didn't mean to tell you before... I'm sorry... Sorry if what I said has, you know, put things in your mind, or- or changed anything..."

"What would it have changed?" Tristan interrupted, his voice as quiet as hers had been.

"I- I don't know."

He reached over, gently touching her arm.

She tried to give him a small smile in return as she replied, "I'm just glad that I can change it."

Tristan's lip twitched slightly and he turned back up to look at the stars.

"Maybe you shouldn't try to change fate," he said after a long silence.

"What?" Cass said, much louder than she had meant to.

But with Tristan saying such a thing, Cass couldn't keep herself quiet.

"You- you're saying that you want me to let you- to let you...?" she couldn't bear to finish that sentence.

The Knight simply stared up at the sky for a while before answering, "No."

"Then... then what are you- what do you mean?" Cass asked confusedly.

With another long and drawn in breath, Tristan replied, "Just be careful. I don't want you getting hurt for me."

It was Cass turn to sigh.

Frustrated, she said, "Tristan, just let me have this one. Let me change these things and I promise I will stay out of trouble for the rest of my life afterwards."

He shot her a sceptical look through the midnight darkness.

"You? Stay out of trouble?" he said the corners of his mouth turning upward.

She rolled her eyes at the Knight and allowed herself to smile as Tristan pulled her into an embrace meant to keep back the cold. It didn't take either of them long to fall asleep- though in truth, neither was able to forget what Cass had revealed.

Cass awoke the next morning determining that she'd slept on a very large and pointy, protruding stick or something of the like. She had also come to the conclusion that she was just not very well practised in camping. _It'll take some getting used to_, she thought as she rubbed a hand over the area of her back that was sore.

They ate a breakfast that one of the Knights had caught while out hunting, as they sat in the same circle that they had the night before.

"So where are we actually going?" Cass asked eventually.

Not really realising that Cass did not know where they were headed; some of the Knights looked at her.

"A band of Woads have been spotted near a village about half a day's ride away. We're going to stop them before they attack," Arthur answered before the others could.

"Oh," Cass replied quietly.

"That must be the reason that they've been so quiet lately then," she added, realisation hitting.

Tristan nodded from beside her, agreeing silently. They set off after they had finished eating, extinguishing their fire and leaving their campsite behind. The group hoped to reach the village as soon as possible to avoid the risk of an attack being made before they arrived. However, things barely ever seemed to run smoothly, Cass decided, as when the village came into view, so did the already-attacking group of Woads.

Over the shouts and screams of those in the not-so-distant village ahead, Arthur's command sounded, ordering them forward. The command was really only for Cass' benefit, because by the time he had spoken, the Knights already had their swords drawn.

As they spurred their horses into the action, Cass soon lost focus of where the others went, because she was far too focussed on her own fight. In the past, she'd fought three Woads, only two of which she'd killed. There were clearly far more present here. Added in were the factors of a fire that someone had either accidentally or purposefully started, and a vast number of screaming villagers.

It was exactly what Cass had expected it to be, what she had prepared herself for. Except, in person, everything was so much more vivid. So much more violent. And so much more instant.

Cass only just ducked out of the way of an axe flying through the air that a Woad had flung her way. She scowled as she drew her swords and steered Kaydin towards him, almost glad that she was on horseback and he wasn't. The man would have dwarfed her by almost two feet if she hadn't been.

But when Cass and he met, and one of her swords slashed across his chest, the man could offer no real defence for himself. Cass had known that that was the case from the minute she'd ducked his incoming axe though. _And that's why it's stupid to throw away your weapon_, Cass found herself thinking, glad that she had not become so proficient in projectile weaponry.

But she could not afford to spend long on that thought, as her next opponent came at her. This time from behind though. She wasn't even sure if she'd have heard the man coming if not for Kaydin turning, alerted, his ears more sensitive than hers.

This man was more prepared for Cass than the other had been, his sword already raised to block hers. With the advantage of height, Cass was quickly able to disarm the man and run her sword across his neck, severing vital blood lines.

She fought several more Woads before she was finally knocked from Kaydin onto the blood-stained grass below. Cass grunted as she hit the ground with a thud, trying to roll with the fall. That plan didn't really work though because she landed square on her back instead.

Scrambling to her feet, Cass raised one of her swords just in time to block the swing of a different Woad's sword. Their swords clashed and Cass quickly realised that her attacker held the advantage of strength over her. Backing away slightly, she managed to dodge more of his would-be-fatal blows, only to land one of her own as the man raised his arms to strike, leaving his already-bare chest unprotected.

Withdrawing her blood-splattered sword from the Woad and letting his body drop to the floor, Cass saw something that she needed to stop. She saw something that she was _too far away_ to stop. Across the village, the field where Knight fought Woad; one blue-painted figure stood before a young woman and a small child, his sword raised.

As fast as she could, Cass sheathed her swords and ran to where Kaydin was stood. Pulling her bow from where she'd tied it and grabbing an arrow, she was just about to shoot when, through the smoke, she saw that someone had beaten her to it. Someone with a better aim than her, she was glad to see. Looking to the right, she saw Galahad with his bow in hand and gave him a small smile that she knew he'd never see.

That was before she'd heard Bors' voice calling her name, telling her to duck. And it was good that she had heard the loud Knight over the cries of pain and clangs of meeting weapons; because, if she hadn't, then she'd have just about been parted from her head.

Turning quickly, Cass collided with her attacker and sent him to crashing the ground. It was a move that had knocked the Woad's sword from his hand, leaving him defenceless. The only problem was that she ended up on top of him and the only weapon that she had at the ready was her bow.

A fist thudded against her jaw, sending a sharp pain through her. Though it hurt like Hell, Cass ignored it and refused to be knocked off of the man. So she did the only thing that she could think to do. She brought the arrow that she had in her grip down into the eye socket of the man below her, feeling it slide through the squashy substance.

As the Woad stopped moving, Cass looked up. Surprised, she found that the fight had ended seemingly in a moment. The Knights were all still standing, walking around the battlefield and ensuring that the Woads lying still were really dead. The villagers had stopped screaming, instead turning their attentions to working on quelling the fire that had broken out.

Cass stood up, pulling the arrow out of the corpse. Tying her bow back where it had been on Kaydin's saddle, she then went over to help the villagers and a few of the other Knights as they tried to put out the now-dimming fire.

Tristan watched Cass as she went to help, just as he had watched her for the entire fight. These Woads had been no match for him, and, since Cass was not focussed on him, Tristan had guessed that this fight was not the one that she thought to be his last. So he assumed that he could afford the glances that had taken him to stare at Cass.

It was just Cass' luck that the first fight she'd picked had been with the biggest Woad involved in the entire battle. However, she'd handled herself well, Tristan was relieved to see. And even as she continued, Cass did well against the Woads. She used the skills that he and the others had taught her; and she was well prepared.

Even when she'd been knocked from her horse, Cass had still held it together. She'd still found away to be calm in the fight where so many others wouldn't have. He'd never admit it for fear of encouraging her, but Tristan was proud of her and how she'd reacted. He still wished that she'd reconsider joining them however.

Just seeing her in that last fight had been enough to confirm that. She'd managed though, and defeated her opponent. But Tristan reminded himself that he was going to have to teach her about hand-to-hand combat, and he silently cursed himself for not having done so sooner.

The fire now extinguished, Cass made her way over to where Tristan stood. She gave him a smile that he couldn't help but notice quickly turned into a wince. Tilting his head to the side, he waited until she was standing in front of him before gently brushing his thumb over the soon-to-be-bruise on Cass' jaw line.

"You're hurt," he observed.

"So are you," Cass replied, her eyes flickering to the small cut on his forehead.

Tristan stared at her seriously.

"I'm fine," she said, rolling her eyes at him.

Tristan and Cass quickly joined the others who were seemingly being surrounded by villagers. And Cass couldn't help but smile. Her first mission; and she'd managed to prove that she could handle it. Her first mission; and no one was hurt. _I'd like to call that a success_, she thought to herself, hoping that she wasn't speaking too soon.

**Author's Note: Would have finished this a couple of hours earlier if it were not for an impromptu making of a pirate costume that I just had to do... And also, got my hair cut, about 6 inches of hair gone- and my dad didn't even notice. :L**

**Anyways,**

**So my plan to slow down didn't work so well, did it? :P Still can't believe I got 10 reviews in about than 24 hours... I swear that's like a record for me, I really wasn't expecting it. You guys are awesome. :D**

**So, on that note, I'll update in about week? Sound fair? :) 'Cus I'm due to update one of my other fics, and you guys just get special update treatment. :P :)**

**Kit xx**


	64. Guilt Makes All Decisions Harder

The villagers that grouped around the Knights seemed a little worse for wear, but otherwise, fine. Some wore expressions of gratitude as they looked on the Knights, but no one seemed to want to get to close to the Knights. In fact, it almost seemed that they were rather afraid of their saviours, Cass observed.

She and Tristan finally made it to stand beside the others in the middle of the village. Arthur was talking to the village elder and trying to discover why the Roman family whose villa lorded over this village had sent no one to help them. The village elder had no answer that he believed would be appropriate to give Arthur; but all of the Knights could have given an answer. They knew exactly what Romans, besides Arthur, were like; how they treated those people they deemed 'beneath' them.

All the Knights were doing was waiting for Arthur to finish, checking over the new and small wounds that they had gleaned in this latest battle. But all that the villagers seemed to be doing was staring at them to the point that Cass had started to get uncomfortable. Particularly as most of their eyes started landing on her, the new addition to the Knights' group.

Cass looked over the villagers, her cheeks darkening as she occasionally met gazes that flickered away from hers quickly. She frowned as she noticed that some of the villagers were staring at the Knights as if they were vicious monsters to be feared.

It was odd, Cass thought, that these people could show such a reaction to the people who had just saved them from a horrible death. But, as if reading the expression on her face, as well as her thoughts, Gawain leaned over to her.

"It's always like this," he whispered.

Cass couldn't stop her frown from deepening as she and the Knights remained at the centre of the villagers' attentions until Arthur had finished speaking with the village elder. Arthur gave the villagers a nod, and then turned to his horse, quickly mounting the animal.

Cass blinked. _That's it? Not even a thank you?_ she thought irritably. But she remained silent until she and the Knights began their ride back to the Fort, when they were well away from the village and its inhabitants.

"Why is it... Why were they acting like that?" she asked finally.

"You'd think they'd be grateful," Galahad scoffed.

"Galahad," Arthur, said, offering his youngest Knight a warning.

"Well, you would," Cass put in.

A few of the Knights looked at her oddly, prompting her to continue.

"Well, after all you do for them... You know, putting your lives at risk to save theirs, you'd think that they would be more grateful towards you."

"Well, they're not always so-" Gawain started.

But Bors was the one that had the answer for her, "It's because we're Sarmatian."

Cass frowned again.

"That's pathetic. No, that's more than pathetic, that's _awful._"

"It's the way things are," Lancelot shrugged.

"In less than a year we won't have to bother about ungrateful Britons anyway. We've dealt with them for fourteen years already. No point changing it now," he finished.

"Besides," Galahad chipped in.

"They're nowhere near as bad as the Romans who live here."

Arthur couldn't even shoot Galahad a disapproving look at that comment. Because as much as he'd hate to admit it, the Romans who resided in Britain, the ones who most often needed his Knights' help, were less than polite to his men. Perhaps to him, the half-Roman commander, they were amiable enough; but he never failed to notice the less-than-friendly looks and words aimed at his men.

And though he had tried to put a stop to it many times, Arthur had found it an impossible task- but for the simple fact that he _had_ continued trying even though no Roman would pay any attention to his words had earned Arthur even more respect from the Knights.

As it was earlier in the day than they'd expected, the Knights decided that they would ride further than the camp they had made the previous night. But even though they had made that decision, they had to pass through the clearing that they had slept in.

That was all that they were going to do. However, when Tristan paused beside the old camp and dismounted, the others stopped too. Cass looked questioningly over at Tristan, whose eyes were trained on the floor, on something that Cass could not see.

"What is it?" Arthur asked the scout.

"Someone's been here," was Tristan's simple reply as he continued to study the ground.

"How many?" enquired Arthur.

"Just one," Tristan answered.

"It looks like they were trying to track us," he added, following the footsteps further.

That was when Tristan turned his eyes upward to the line of trees at the edge of the clearing; the ones that Cass had followed him into the night before. The other Knights and Cass' eyes flickered up to the trees too; but though Cass knew that they were looking for a person, she had no idea how they were supposed to be finding them.

All she could see was the camp that they had left that morning. To Cass, it looked as if nothing had changed or been moved. But what Tristan was seeing was entirely different. What he was seeing were the footsteps around their camp that belonged to none of the Knights or Cass; he was seeing the subtle movement of things that had been in specific places.

Tristan caught the eye of the Knight closest to him, and Galahad dismounted, pretending to be checking the ground for the footprints Tristan saw. The two moved closer to tree line, their eyes on the ground as if they were following the trail of footsteps.

But as they neared the edge of the camp, the tiniest of rustles could be heard from inside the shadows of the trees. The two Knights were on the move before Cass could even notice that that rustle was anything out of the ordinary. And it was only moments, and a short struggle, later, that Galahad and Tristan emerged. However, when they did, they were not alone.

In the solid grips of the two Knights was a woman in her mid-twenties; her skin painted blue. A Woad. Her light brown hair hung over her shoulder in a long plait that swung slightly as she tried to free herself. She was thin and didn't look all that strong, which probably explained why she hadn't made a move against the Knights and had tried to hide, Cass assumed. Either way, she was still fighting as hard as she could against the two strong grasps holding her arms.

Eventually though, the woman gave up as Arthur dismounted and walked over to her. She almost seemed to droop in the Knights' arms, a sort of dejected expression quickly passing over her face.

"Why are you here?" Arthur asked, tilting his head at the Woad woman.

She didn't answer. The woman simply turned her head from all of them to look at the disturbed earth at her feet. The ring of steel as Arthur unsheathed Excalibur caught her attention though. She looked up at him, slightly bloodshot green eyes flashing to meet the commander's blue ones.

"Answer the question," Arthur said, his voice serious.

The woman frowned in response. It was almost as if she didn't have answer for what Arthur wanted to know; or, if she did, it wasn't an answer that she wanted to give him.

"Does it matter?" she asked eventually, her quiet voice almost sad in tone.

Cass frowned. _Surely she doesn't think...? Arthur _wouldn't_- he _won't_ kill her... Will he?_ Cass thought. _No... He tries _not _to kill if he can help it_... she determined, hoping that she was correct.

"Of course it matters," Lancelot sneered from atop his horse.

The woman's eyes turned to his quickly, but her expression did not change.

"Why?" she questioned the Knight, her voice still lined with an underlying sadness.

The Knight who usually had an answer to everything, who usually knew exactly what to say, remained silent. A few of the others locked gazes, uncertain as to the way that this Woad girl was speaking to them.

"Why don't you humour us?" Gawain said eventually.

Giving him a dry look, the woman replied, "What's the point? You're just going to kill me anyway."

It was Arthur's turn to frown, it seemed, as he watched the Woad who was, at that moment, their captive.

"Not necessarily," he began.

"Look, I don't care what you do. Just get it over with," she snapped.

"So you wouldn't mind if we killed you?" Lancelot asked, with an almost smirk on his face.

"_Lancelot_."

The warning had come from both Arthur and Cass and everyone looked between the two.

"It makes no difference to me," the Woad replied blankly.

"Surely it should," Cass said, staring at the woman seriously.

"It doesn't... You've already killed my family, what point is there to this now?" she bit back.

Something registered in all of the Knights' expressions. Something that almost made them all feel bad for the sad-looking woman that slumped in their captivity. The Woads that they had just fought- those that they had just _killed_- were this woman's family.

"And there's no one else that you can go to?" Cass asked, surprising the others with her question.

"No," was the only response that she received.

"So you're alone?" Cass persisted.

"Just kill me and get it over with. I can't see why knowing my life's story will make a difference to that choice."

But it did make a difference. To Cass, at least. Because Cass couldn't live with herself knowing that she'd let this woman guilt the Knights into helping her virtually commit suicide. It wasn't right.

"You've got to have something worth living for?" Cass started.

"Cass, she wants to die. One less Woad trying to kill us isn't exactly a bad thing," Galahad reasoned.

Cass stared at him almost harshly for a moment, before turning back to the Woad woman.

"You really want to die?" Cass asked, the gravity of the question weighing heavily on her.

The woman paused; it was a slight hesitation that Cass latched onto. It _wasn't _a hesitation that someone who was absolutely certain that they wanted to die would have made.

"You don't," Cass finished, dismounting from Kaydin.

The woman didn't reply for a minute, the silence that rolled through the old campsite sounding louder than any response could have been.

"There's nowhere for me to go. It'd be easier if you just..." the woman trailed off.

The Knights said nothing until Cass turned on them, frowning.

"She doesn't want to die."

"What does it matter if she wants to die or not?" Lancelot said, scowling at the Woad woman.

"Lancelot, _we_ killed her family. _We_ put her in this position. Like it or not, we _owe_ her," Cass said, her tone deadly serious.

"We _can't_ kill her... And she has nowhere to go."

"What do you suggest then?"

Cass blinked as the tall, quiet Knight answered for her.

"We bring her back to the Fort with us."

Everyone stared at him, most of them thinking that Dagonet had lost his mind slightly. They all knew that he was the most compassionate of them; it came in his nature and was one of the reasons that he was such an adept healer. But they also knew that he hated the Woads as much as they did, which was why his speaking out made no sense.

For her part, Cass was so glad that Dagonet had seen what she could see. And she was glad that she had not been the one to suggest it; because as much as they respected her and trusted her, Cass knew that having one of the Knights on her side would make convincing the others far easier.

"You can't be serious?" Bors asked his friend, confusedly.

"I am," Dagonet replied finitely.

"I was thinking the same thing," Cass said, throwing a grateful glance at the tall Knight.

"She's a _Woad_," Tristan said, speaking for the first time in this debate.

"Her people try to kill us daily," Galahad said.

"We try to kill them too, don't forget," Gawain put in.

The woman at the centre of the conversation had no idea what to think. Were they really having this debate? Were they _really_ considering not killing her? She looked up at the group around her, the group that had momentarily gone silent. She quickly saw that each face was trained on one other; Arthur's. Because it was him that got the final decision- even _she_ knew that. Eventually, Arthur lowered Excalibur and turned so he faced the woman.

"One chance. If you try anything, you will not be so lucky again."

The woman's jaw visibly dropped. Cass' almost did too, but she stopped herself before it did.

"Tristan. Galahad," Arthur said, the command to release the woman clear.

Slowly and reluctantly, the two men let go of the Woad, allowing her to drop on her knees onto the floor.

"We might as well camp here again tonight," Arthur finished, sheathing his sword and walking back over to his horse.

Giving each other wary looks, the other Knights dismounted and began to go about what they were so used to doing. Cass though, as she had no usual task set for her, approached the woman whose life she had just helped to save. The woman didn't look up as Cass neared her; all she did was stare at the floor.

A wind started to blow through the camp and Cass held her cloak to her to repel some of its chill. Cass looked down at the woman, trying to understand how the woman wasn't shivering in the thin beige shirt that cut off just under her ribs, where it was belted with a leather strap. The woman's beige trousers and high, leather boots seemed more reasonable in keeping back the cold; though Cass still wondered how the Woad woman could stand the cold dressed in so little as she was.

"Aren't you cold?" Cass asked, trying to break the silence between them.

Still looking at the floor, the woman replied, "I grew up here. I'm used to this weather."

"So did I," Cass said quietly.

That seemed to have caught the woman's attention, Cass noted, as she immediately looked up to stare at Cass.

"I still need a cloak though," Cass said, trying to give a small smile.

Ignoring the last comment, the Woad asked, "You grew up here? You were born in Britain?"

Cass nodded, looking away into the direction of where the wind blew from.

"Then why are you with _them_?" she asked.

Cass chose not to pay attention to the woman's tone.

"They took me in when no one else would have. Like they're about to do for you," Cass added, looking back at the kneeling woman.

The Woad didn't look totally convinced; but Cass knew that getting this woman to trust them would not be an easy task.

"My name's Cass, by the way."

After a short pause, the woman sighed and answered, "Nuala."

Cass nodded to the woman and took a seat beside her.

"They're not as bad as you think they are, you know," Cass said as the pair watched the Knights move around the camp.

"Yes they are. They killed my family; and so did you," Nuala replied, anger obvious in her voice.

Cass sighed and closed her eyes. If Nuala had been looking at her, she would have seen that Cass was visibly sad.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't..."

Cass didn't really know what to say, so when she trailed off, Nuala spoke again.

"You killed them, but you _did_ save me," she frowned.

"I guess I owe you for that."

"No, you don't. You really, really don't," Cass answered sadly, her expression also forming into a frown.

Neither of the women spoke for a while after that, but that was mostly because neither of them had anything to say. That was until Nuala's soft voice broke the silence.

"What now then?"

There was another short pause as Cass took a deep breath.

"You come back with us," she answered.

"To a place where everyone will hate me?" Nuala asked with a scowl turning her features.

"They won't hate you-"

"I can promise you that they will. Everyone in that place hates Woads. Even those born in this land.

"Well... I don't hate you. You'll at least have someone you can talk to, that is, if you want, I mean."

Nuala stared at Cass blankly. She didn't understand the dark-haired woman that had effectively saved her life. She didn't understand how Cass could act as she did. It made no sense to her. And Nuala didn't understand how she could seem so nice, but could be working to kill her own people alongside those Sarmatian Knights.

**Author's Note: As promised, the next chapter a week after the last. :)**

**Now, in reference to Nuala, I'd like to know what you guys think, what you'd like to see, if anything, of her. I already have it planned, I'm just interested to see what you guys think. :) Oh, and her name's pronounced Noo-la by the way. :)**

**Kit xx**


	65. Enemy Territory

The rest of the night was awkward. Just plain awkward. The Knights were uncomfortable. Nuala was uncomfortable. And Cass, as the person who bridged the gap between the two, felt _very_ uncomfortable.

Cass spent the entire evening trying to lessen the underlying and badly-hidden hatred between the Knights and Nuala. Neither of them trusted each other; and wary eyes watched any sort of movement from the other side of the separated camp.

Cass took over some of the meat that the Knights had saved from the previous night with some bread and she sat down next to Nuala. The older woman eyed her carefully as she held out the food to her. She gave a nod in thanks before accepting it. Nuala said nothing though, and Cass merely sat beside her in silence, well-aware that Tristan's eyes were trained on her.

"So..." Cass started, not knowing what to say.

Nuala looked at her out of the corner of her eye, but didn't turn or pause in her consumption of the food Cass had given her. Cass chewed on her lip slightly as she mulled over the question that she really wanted to ask. The question that had been niggling at the back of her mind for quite some time.

"Why did you... Why _didn't_ you go with your family to the village?"

Nuala blinked and lowered the bread that she was about to put into her mouth. She stared and Cass for a minute, almost as if considering her.

Eventually, she sighed though and then answered in a melancholic voice, "I was supposed to. I _wanted _to. My father... I got hurt a couple of days ago and my father didn't want to put me at risk. He said... He told me to wait behind until they came back."

Nuala paused, her eyes finding the floor.

"They didn't."

"I'm sorry," Cass whispered, feeling the guilt of what she'd done renewed.

The woman shrugged, still not looking up from where her eyes were focussed on the floor.

"You can't do anything to change it now. No one can."

An uncomfortable silence followed in which neither woman said anything. Cass shifted uncomfortably and let out a long breath.

"So... So you said that you're hurt?" she said eventually.

Nuala frowned and looked up at the younger woman. After a while, she nodded.

"It's nothing. It will heal," she replied quietly.

"Are you sure?" Cass asked.

"Because, I'm sure if I ask Dagonet, he could take a look for you."

The Woad woman shook her head. She _wasn't_ about to let a Knight, someone who had been her enemy just hours before- someone who was _still_ her enemy now- take a look at her injury. He'd probably purposefully make it worse.

But, on hearing his name mentioned, Dagonet looked up at the two women. He stood and made his way over to them, and Nuala recognised him as the only one of the Knights not to vehemently believe she should have been killed earlier.

"Did Cass just say that you were hurt?" he asked Nuala.

Her eyes flickered up to the tall Knight before finding the floor again.

"I'm fine."

"If you're sure, because I can take a look for you," Dagonet said, tilting his head at her slightly.

It was an offer from the Knight himself. Not from Cass. From him. _He's offering to look at my wound... Why?_ Nuala wondered. _He should hate me. Why is he being... nice?_ But the proposal coming from him seemed to be sincere. That didn't stop her from still being cautious of him though.

After a _lot_ of persuading on Cass' part, Nuala eventually gave in, if somewhat reluctantly. She pulled a make-shift bandage from the back of her shoulder and let Dagonet take a look. She winced slightly as his fingers gently probed the newly-revealed area.

"Sorry," he muttered, taking care to be gentler.

_She already doesn't like us. I don't need to do anything else to add to that_, Dagonet thought as he focussed on Nuala's injury.

"You should be alright. It just needs time to heal properly," he surmised.

Nuala nodded slowly and slid her shoulder free of his grip, not completely comfortable at the close contact with a Knight. That's what she had thought anyway- it was nice to have another person's opinion anyway though, she had thought.

"How did you get that anyway?" Dagonet asked.

With a wry smile, she replied, "You Knights aren't the only dangers out here, you know."

Cass noticed that he almost gave Nuala a smile in return. _Almost_. But seeing that almost gesture, Cass actually felt as if she could take a step away from the two as they discussed Nuala's wound. Cass made her way over to where Tristan was sat at the edge of the camp. She took a seat beside him and met his levelling gaze, knowing exactly what he had found issue in.

"This is a bad idea," he said seriously, his voice low.

Cass sighed.

"I didn't think it would be a particularly popular one," Cass admitted.

"She's a Woad. You've fought her people; you know how much they hate us."

"I know," she replied quietly.

"So why would you think that bringing her to the Fort would be a good idea?" Tristan asked, his face expressionless as he did.

"I- I don't know," Cass whispered, frowning.

"I think- we _killed_ her family, and I don't think I could live with myself if we'd just killed her... She might be a Woad, but she's still a person."

He seemed to consider her words in the silence that followed, as if to decide if what she'd said even made a difference.

"You realise that the fact that you suggested it means that you will be responsible for her."

Cass gave him a small nod in response.

"Just be careful. I don't trust Woads."

She nodded again before leaning her head against Tristan's shoulder. And she couldn't help but think, _how interesting will be when _Guinevere_ decides to make her appearance? Bet the Knights'll love that._

The Knights took up the same watch pattern as they had the night before, however, this time, they had to keep an especially close eye on the Woad woman who slept at the side of their camp. They needn't have though, because although she was watchful and wary of them all, she settled herself down for the night and made no move from that place.

The next morning, the group rode back to the Fort. How they had gotten to that stage had been an issue itself though. Because they knew that Nuala had no horse. Cass would have volunteered to take the woman with her, but with Kaydin seemingly so volatile around everyone but she and Gawain, that wasn't really an option. So the task fell to the only other Knight that Nuala had a modicum of trust for. Dagonet.

The ride was relatively odd. Nuala sat behind the Knight, her hands on his waist to stop herself from falling or slipping from his horse. It just seemed strange for the others to see a Knight and a woman that they would have so recently dubbed a blue-painted demon, sharing a horse.

They were supposed to be enemies, and yet, there were the Knights, helping out a Woad. It made no sense. But that was the situation that they found themselves in regardless.

As they rode into the Fort, through the heavy gates that had already been heaved open for them, more open stares were aimed at the group than Cass thought she'd ever seen. And it was all because of the guest they'd brought back with them- a fact that Nuala seemed to be very much aware of.

Dismounting where they usually did, in their little railed off courtyard, Cass was quick to give the older woman a reassuring smile. She could tell that Nuala wasn't happy; wasn't comfortable. It was obvious why too. She was, effectively, in the heart of enemy territory.

By all accounts, Nuala should have been dead if she ever made it to where she stood beside the men that should have been killing her for standing there. But they hadn't killed her, and it didn't look like they planned on doing so unless she did something to provoke them.

Cass and the Knights made their way over to a corner of the courtyard, leaving Nuala to stand where she was as Jols and a few stable hands led their horses away. They needed to talk without Nuala overhearing them.

"So, what now?" Cass asked.

The men glanced at Nuala as she stood at the other end of the courtyard, seeming not really to know what to do with herself. She didn't look even the slightest bit threatening as she looked around at the Fort that she had never dreamed she'd be inside of.

"We should find her a room. Somewhere for her to stay," Dagonet suggested.

Arthur nodded in assent.

"I've got the perfect room for her. It's got four walls and a nice barred doorway," Galahad said jokingly.

"We can't put her in a cell! She's _not_ a prisoner," Cass said with a deep frown creasing her brows.

"Well then, where do you suggest?" Galahad asked.

"It has to be somewhere that we can keep an eye on her from," Bors put in. "She can stay in my room. I pretty much stay with Tristan as it is-" Cass reasoned; or she started to anyway.

"I know. I can hear you through the wall," Lancelot interrupted, an expression of mock sternness mixed with the smirk on his face.

Horrified, Cass felt her cheeks burn and she literally had to stop her jaw from dropping. As for Lancelot, he barely ducked away from the slap she'd aimed at him. The Knight held his hands up in surrender as she stared at him through narrowed eyes.

"Just pointing it out," Lancelot said with a shrug, still smirking.

"Well, don't," Tristan interjected calmly.

Cass tried to cool her cheeks as the Knights continued to discuss where Nuala was to stay. But it wasn't long until they settled upon Cass' idea- and that was only because they couldn't think of a better one.

Finally, they moved back over to where Nuala stood, waiting expectantly. Her grey eyes shifted back up to them nervously as if she felt like some criminal awaiting a verdict.

"You will be under Cass' charge whilst staying here, and we expect you to behave or-"

"No second chances," Nuala interrupted solemnly.

"Indeed," Arthur said.

Then he turned to Cass and nodded. The dark-haired woman smiled back and then gestured for Nuala to follow her. The woman trailed after her and both walked out of the courtyard, leaving the Knights standing behind, watching them carefully.

"Where are we going?" Nuala asked eventually, her curiosity overcoming her.

"Bathhouse," was Cass' simple reply.

But when conversation dwindled, she added, "If you wash off the blue paint, people won't treat you as..."

"Hostilely?" Nuala put in.

"Exactly," Cass answered, as if admitting it almost reluctantly.

They reached the bathhouse that was thankfully absent of all others. Cass couldn't help but wonder if that was due to the presence of the woman beside her; but whatever the reason, she was glad. She hated these public baths more than anything. The fewer people being around her whilst she was naked, the happier Cass would be. She always felt so uncomfortable about being naked in public.

Nuala seemed to be Cass' polar opposite in that sense, however. Because, as soon as the door had closed behind them, she had unclothed herself. _She_ was clearly _not_ shy about her body in any way. There simply didn't seem to be any sense for a need for modesty there, Cass thought as she averted her eyes slightly when the woman quickly unbraided her hair and stepped into the water.

The water was warm, and it soon distracted Cass from her insecurities. It felt so good to just be able to wash away the dirt and blood that had accumulated on her skin since she'd ridden out on the mission with the Knights.

Nuala seemed to be enjoying it too. And, as she washed away the paint that dyed her skin that unnatural colour, starting with her face, Cass saw that the woman's skin was almost as pale as hers.

Although Cass would have liked to have spent a longer time soaking in that warm water, she and Nuala were soon out of the bathhouse. They dressed quickly again and then Cass led Nuala toward the room that was technically hers.

"You'll be staying here," Cass said, gesturing around the room.

Nuala looked around a little uncertainly. The room was relatively sizable. A bed. A wooden chair. A table. The only problem was that it looked as if it was already being lived in. And it wasn't until Cass started picking up a stack of clothes and then piling strange bottles full of colourful liquid on top of them that Nuala said anything about it.

"Does someone live here?" she asked, her soft voice quiet.

Cass blinked.

"_Oh_... I'm sorry, I didn't think. This was my room," Cass replied.

Nuala paused for a second, not really understanding what was going on. What Cass meant.

"Wait, I don't really- are you-?"

"I'm moving across the hall. With Tristan," she added, blushing.

She'd seen Cass and the Knight and how they acted together, so it didn't surprise Nuala that that was where Cass was moving to. But it _did_ surprise her that Cass was giving up her room for her.

"Are you sure?" Nuala asked.

"It's fine. I basically stay there anyway, and this is the best we could do for you on such short notice," Cass replied with a small smile.

She purposefully left out that part about them being able to keep tabs on her though. Cass pushed open the door and stepped out into the corridor, heading for Tristan's room. Nuala followed her slightly, and waited, leaning against the doorway. Cass disappeared into the room closest to the outside door on the opposite side of the corridor.

When she emerged again, Nuala noticed that Cass was still holding something. The younger woman tossed it to her and Nuala instantly realised that it was a dress. A faded red one. She looked sceptically at Cass for a moment.

"You'll get less stares this way," Cass explained, hoping that she was right in guessing that Nuala wouldn't want to be noticed so obviously as a Woad if she was worried about people hating her.

Nuala gave her an appreciative glance in return and said, "Thanks."

"I'm just going to get changed; I'll wait out here for you when I'm done," Cass said, before vanishing into the room again.

Nuala sighed as she stood in the doorway for a moment longer. _She's so strange_, Nuala thought, reflecting on Cass once more. _How can she be so kind to both me _and_ the Knights? _It was impossible to be in the middle of Knights and Woads, wasn't it? Nuala just didn't understand. Things just _didn't_ work that way. _Or do they?_ she wondered as she continued to stare at the door that Cass had closed behind her.

**Author's Note: Sorry for the wait with this chapter guys, I had a really busy week. And, don't hate me, I probably won't be able to get another chapter done before I go on holiday in six days. Which means I won't have another chapter for you for about three weeks. So I'm seriously sorry about that. :/**

**Kit xx**


	66. Friendship and Distractions

Nuala stepped out of her new room and met Cass in the corridor. The dress she had been given was slightly too short for her, where it had been too long for Cass; but Nuala wasn't troubled by it. It made no difference to her that the dress was short.

The only thing that mattered was that the people of the Fort weren't eyeing her warily and looking as if they could turn to kill her at any moment. Because _that_ was what she was worried about. Normally she wouldn't have cared about people staring at her, but here... Those _stares_ would carry daggers that posed a real threat to her.

Blinking back into the moment, Nuala gave Cass a small smile and watched as the younger woman returned it. Cass turned and led her out of the building, into the streets of the Fort beyond.

The older woman noticed now, that out of the dirt-covered and blood-stained clothes, Cass was actually quite well put-together. Very pretty. Striking even. It was obvious, looking at her then, how Cass had managed to capture the attention of the deadly scout that even Nuala's people knew to be removed from society.

"So the dress is okay then?" Cass asked, making an attempt at conversation.

Nuala nodded and quietly admitted, "It's a little short."

"It's only for the meantime, until we can get you some more clothes," Cass replied, almost as if she was waving off the comment.

"Where are we going?" Nuala asked after a short silence.

Cass looked over to her and almost tripped over her own dress, which was slightly too long for her. Nuala watched as her cheeks turned scarlet in colour and she looked back to her feet, scowling at them.

"The tavern," she answered, when her composure had eventually been recovered.

Nuala tried not to let it show, but that was one place that she really_ didn't_ want to go. _Great. I'll just go and sit in front of another bunch of _these _people, so that they can gawp at me as if I'm some captured and untamed animal_, she thought, almost annoyed.

Cass noticed the woman's expression change, but she didn't say anything. She thought that she was getting quite good at reading faces after having so much practice at trying to determine the unfathomable mask that Tristan so often wore. And Cass _hadn't_ thought that Nuala would be too pleased about going to so public a place as the tavern- the Woad woman looked about as uncomfortable around staring eyes as she herself was.

The two women reached the tavern as the sky started to dim, the sun beginning its nightly descent. Nuala stopped just outside of it, as if unwilling to step foot inside the building she knew to hold both Knights and Roman officers.

She couldn't help that though. It was like her every instinct was screaming for her to get out of this place; to make her escape. Nuala knew that an escape would be impossible though, because first, she would have to find her way through the seemingly labyrinth-like Fort undetected, and then she would have to figure out a way to get through those huge gates that were meant to stop her people from getting _into _the Fort. And then on top of _that_ was the fact that she really had nowhere to go if she _did_ escape.

So Nuala just took a breath and followed as Cass headed into the tavern; until her guide stopped abruptly in front of her. Cass looked over at the corner table, full of Knights. That was exactly how it should be; but it was exactly the problem that Cass saw. The table was full of Knights that _wouldn't_ appreciate Nuala sitting beside them.

Thankfully though, Nuala quickly identified Cass' issue and was relieved to see that the woman had noticed it. She knew that she would feel as uncomfortable as the Knights would should she have sat at their table. Cass just couldn't seem to come up with a solution to their current situation though, so Nuala thought one up for her.

"I can sit at the bar," she piped up quietly.

Cass's dark blue eyes flashed up to her face for a moment, before she smiled slightly at the older woman.

"Go ahead; give me two seconds and I'll be there too," Cass replied.

Nuala gave her a nod, and the pair separated as Nuala went to take a seat at the bar top and Cass went to the corner table. The Knights looked up at her and gave their smiles and greetings, which she returned in kind, only pausing to take a seat for a couple of minutes.

As soon as she was sat though, she felt Tristan's hand around her waist, pulling her to him. Cass turned her head to him just in time for him to envelope her lips in a kiss. A blush rising to heat her cheeks, Cass eventually pulled back.

"So where's _you know who_?" Galahad asked, still so objecting of Nuala's presence at the Fort.

"_Nuala_ is at the bar. She won't eat with you and it's not hard to figure out why," Cass answered with a frown.

"You're going to have to be nicer to her while she's here-"

"_Nicer? _To _her?_" interrupted Galahad.

"Some Woads I can understand, but it's not like _she's_ actually tried to kill you or anything-"

"How do you know?" Galahad asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Forget it, Galahad; clearly you being nice to Nuala is a step too far," Cass said, trying to dismiss the start of the argument that she saw quickly arising.

No one spoke after that, and a short silence slipped between them all.

That was, until Lancelot said, "Uh-oh."

Cass blinked and asked, "_Uh-oh_ what?"

But with no reply to go on, Cass merely followed the Knight's eyes to where they were focussed intently behind her. And that was where, when Cass turned, she saw the woman standing behind her. Vanora's hands were on her hips, one finger tapping impatiently. The look in her eyes that she had trained on Cass was one so stern that Cass was almost afraid to meet them.

And when she finally dared to, Vanora said, "So now _you_ think it's alright to just leave without telling me too, do you?"

Cass opened her mouth to respond, but Vanora's glare kept her silent.

"You should know more than any of the others how it feels to have them leave and then you go and _join_ them without even telling me. How do you think I felt last night when you _didn't _turn up and I had to find out off _some guard_ that you had left with _them_?"

Cass didn't know how to answer that question; especially not since she knew _exactly _where Vanora was coming from. And Cass couldn't quite believe that she'd been so self-involved to _not_ think of Vanora. It was embarrassing. No, more than that, it was hurtful for Vanora; and Cass immediately swore to herself that she would never do it again.

"_Well_?" Vanora asked, the tapping of her finger steadily increasing in pace.

And Cass did the only thing that she could think to do then. She stood up and put her arms around the older woman.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered to Vanora.

For a moment, Vanora didn't know what to say. For once, she was completely lost for words. It only took her a moment to shake herself out of that however, and she pushed herself back from Cass.

"Yes, well... Don't do it again," she said seriously, before she walked off again.

"Wish I got out of it so easily," Cass heard Bors say sulkily from behind her.

Cass turned and smiled at him.

"Well then you shouldn't repeat the offence. If I ever do that again, I can pretty much assure you that she'll most likely skin me alive," Cass finished, her smile fading slightly.

Everyone but Bors laughed. And the only reason that he didn't laugh, was because Cass was right about his repeat offences. He had often not told Vanora about his leaving for a mission, and each time he had faced a worse punishment from her on his return- not that he'd ever admit what those punishments were. This time would be no different though. As it was, she had barely spoken to him, and when she did, it was only to scold him. _She'll come around eventually,_ he reasoned to himself.

"Right, well, I'm going to go and sit with Nuala then; just so she's not on her own," Cass said, pausing only to place a small kiss on Tristan's cheek before walking off to the bar top.

She sat beside the Woad woman, who was perched awkwardly on one of the slightly higher seats. Nuala gave Cass a grateful look as she noticed her, glad that she no longer just had to sit alone with nothing better to do than wonder if people were staring at her. If people knew what she was and hated her for it.

As soon as Cass had taken her seat, a visibly pregnant, red-headed woman, came up to the bar in front of them. She obviously worked in the tavern, and was obviously familiar with Cass; Nuala had noticed the two embrace each other when Cass had been over at the Knights' table.

"I really am sorry," Cass said again to Vanora.

Vanora rolled her eyes at the younger woman.

"Well the first thing you can do to make it up to me is to introduce me to your friend here," she replied, nodding at Nuala.

Cass blinked and smiled slightly. That was Vanora all over; always making people feel welcome. She'd done the same for Cass when she'd arrived at the Fort, and now Cass was grateful that she was doing so for Nuala.

"This is Nuala. Nuala, Vanora. Vanora, Nuala."

The two women smiled at each other, though their smiles were very different. Vanora's was friendly and motherly, whereas Nuala's was almost a little forced and hesitant.

"I bet Cass didn't tell you this, but the dress you're wearing used to be mine," Vanora started.

Nuala blinked.

"It was the longest one I had that wasn't falling apart and it's _still_ too short for her," Cass admitted.

"Ah," Vanora said.

"Still, I've got to admit that it's quite funny that you've given the dress that you wore on _your_ first night in the Fort to Nuala on hers. Apparently, _she_ stood out like a sore thumb before she changed," Vanora added to Nuala.

"I know the feeling," Nuala replied quietly.

The three women spoke for a couple of minutes longer before someone called Vanora over to them.

"I'll be back in a minute," she said as she grabbed a jug full of ale.

"I'm not from here either you know," Cass told Nuala when they were alone.

"I'm from a _long_ way away. I came here alone and without knowing anyone... For the most part, people are nice; they treat you well. Like Vanora; she'll mother you silly, but still be a friend that's always there- even if you don't know her that well. And the Knights... I know you don't like them, but they _are_ good men."

"Just make sure you stay away from Lancelot," Vanora chipped in, returning from her quick errand.

"Why?" Nuala asked, her voice still soft and quite hard to hear in the raucous tavern.

"Trust us," Cass said.

"Lancelot has a certain _way _with women-"

Cass snorted, interrupting Vanora.

"You mean he's a flirt with sex on the brain, don't you?"

"That's one way to put it," the older woman replied with a wink.

Nuala smiled. Not awkwardly or falsely, but she _really_ smiled. For the first time whilst she was in so unfamiliar a place, she felt comfortable around these two women. The two women who seemed to be doing anything but judging her, like she'd thought they would. It was so... _odd_.

Vanora soon left to return to her work and the two younger women continued talking, going over certain aspects of the Knights' personalities so that Nuala would have less chance at turning them against her further. The result of that, however; was simply that Nuala resolved to stay away from all of the Knights simply to avoid irritating them. Topics soon turned to other practical subjects though.

"Since it looks like you're going to be staying here; it would probably be best if you got a job," Cass suggested.

"A job?" Nuala said quietly.

"Who in this Fort is going to want to hire a _Woad_?"

"People who don't know you're a Woad?" Cass put in, replying with the only answer that she could think of.

Nuala stared at her seriously and answered dryly, "I think word might have gotten around by now about me."

"Well, I'm sure Vanora wouldn't mind you working here; she didn't when I came to the Fort," Cass started.

"I'm not going to ruin her business just because I need a job," Nuala interrupted.

"You wouldn't ruin any-"

"Trust me; I won't hold my tongue for drunken Romans. I'd ruin business without being able to stop myself. And then I'd have to face your Knights. So, really, working here would be a bad idea."

After looking at her for a while, Cass nodded, accepting that the tavern probably wasn't the best place for Nuala. But what other types of job would suit Nuala, Cass had no idea. _And that's probably because I know nothing _about_ Nuala_, she thought blankly.

"Well alright... What type of things are you good at? Maybe we can pick something based on that?"

Nuala didn't lift her grey-eyed glare from Cass as she said, "It's not really considered a good idea to inform your enemies of your strengths, you know."

Cass blinked.

"I'm not your enemy," Cass said, confused slightly by the woman's sudden turn.

"You might not be; but they are," she answered tilting her head in the direction of the Knights.

"You can't think of them like that. Not anymore," Cass said, frowning slightly.

"I'll stop thinking like that when they do," Nuala replied, considering herself extremely childish for doing so, but knowing that she couldn't afford to drop her guard until they did.

Cass frowned. _This is going to be a problem_, she thought, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't come up with a solution without Nuala revealing something more about herself.

"Maybe we should try this again in the morning," Cass put forward slowly.

Nuala gave her a small nod and answered, "Perhaps."

"Call it a night?" Cass asked.

Nuala frowned at Cass, not quite understanding what she meant. It seemed to take Cass a second to realise that Nuala hadn't registered her meaning too, and when she did a blush crept to her cheeks.

"Sorry, I didn't... I meant that I'm going to go to bed. Want me to walk you back to your room?" she corrected herself.

Nuala's lips formed into a small 'o' that illustrated her understanding and she nodded to Cass. Both women stood, and turned toward the tavern's exit. Cass, however, made a little side-stop at the Knights' corner table. Nuala just waited, leaning against a wooden column far enough away from the Knights' table that she couldn't hear the conversation between Cass and her scout.

The two parted with a kiss, and then a blushing Cass made her way back to Nuala. And the women started to walk to the building that housed their room, Cass still leading the way.

"Why do you blush?" Nuala piped up suddenly.

"Hm?" Cass said, looking up at the woman.

"When you're with him; you blush. Why?"

Cass felt her cheeks start to rouge at the mention of her involuntary show of emotion.

"I- I don't know... It's just- I can't stop it; it just happens," Cass said, struggling to explain herself.

"You shouldn't be embarrassed," Nuala said, her soft voice quiet.

Cass' blush darkened as she replied, "I'm not embarrassed... I just... I've never really been used to people looking at me, and they seem to quite a lot here."

"At the Fort- especially when I'm with Tristan."," Cass added, catching herself.

Nuala gave her a small nod, and replied, "I understand, I suppose."

It didn't take long for them to reach their rooms, but when they did, and Cass pulled open the building's door, Cass heard Nuala sigh.

"You alright?" Cass asked, concern creasing her brow.

"Yes," Nuala answered after a while.

"It's just strange... Being _here_. It's... not normal."

"That's how I felt when I came here too. It's different, isn't it?" Cass said.

"It is..." Nuala replied, but then she suddenly felt the need to ask where it was that Cass was from.

But as soon as she'd asked the following question, Nuala watched Cass' face form into an odd expression.

Evasively, Cass answered, "Far away."

"I see that I'm not the only one with secrets," Nuala said in response.

Cass blushed but said nothing except, "You'll get used to life here, everyone does. I'll come get you for breakfast in the morning."

And with that, Cass disappeared into what was now she and Tristan's room. She leant her back against the hard wood of the door and frowned. _After all this time I'm still so obvious when it comes to _that_ lie? _Cass cursed herself silently. She didn't need Nuala finding out about where she came from; not until she knew that she could trust the Woad woman. _If that day will ever really come_, she thought, letting out a deep sigh.

After lighting a candle and brightening the dark room, Cass settled herself, perching on the side of the bed. She wanted to sleep, and she knew _exactly_ how comfortable the bed underneath her was; but Cass wanted to speak with Tristan before she slept.

A mere ten minutes passed before the Knight in question stepped through the doorway. Cass hadn't expected to wait too long; she'd told him that she wanted to have a word as she'd left the tavern. Perceptively, he'd just nodded and given her enough time to let Cass return Nuala to her room.

At the sight of him, Cass left her position on his bed- _our bed_, she reminded herself- and walked slowly over to him. He caught her waist in his so-strong hands and spun her around so that her back once more pressed against the hard door behind her. Tristan's lips found hers in an inescapable embrace that Cass really didn't want to break free from.

Eventually, he pulled back though, and Cass asked, "What was that for?"

One hand still around her waist, Tristan brushed the other over one of her already-blush-covered cheeks. And he stared at her intently with those deep, brown eyes.

"I need a reason to kiss you?" he asked in a low voice.

Cass' blush darkened but she gripped a hold of her original purpose.

"Of course not; but I have a feeling that this is more of a _distraction_ than a, well, you know..." Cass trailed off.

Tristan tilted his head at her, but didn't take his gaze from her eyes. The silence that followed was one that Cass knew she would be the one to break.

"Listen, I need to ask you something," she started.

He gave no reply though, and simply waited for her to continue.

"About Nuala. Is there any way that you could speak to the others; and just... maybe get them to go a bit easier on her?"

Tristan shook his head, dark strands of hair falling in front of his face in places as they so often did.

"But she's got no choice but to be here. She _has_ to behave. And she's got nothing else but us and this place. The least you and the others could do is be a _little_ friendlier to her."

Tristan shook his head slowly once more.

"No. She's a _Woad_."

Cass tried reasoning with him once more, "But we _did_ kill her family-"

"And her family killed many others. Knights in the past too. Why should we take pity on her?" he asked, his voice quiet and soft, but deadly serious.

Cass blinked. _How do I answer that?_ she wondered in the silence that grew too long for Cass' liking.

"Enough of this," Tristan said eventually, pushing himself closer to her and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"You can change her fate, but you can't change _us_," he added quietly.

A short pause followed, and Cass didn't know what to say. Tristan's statement was probably far truer than she'd like to admit.

"And _this_ is _not_ meant as a distraction," Tristan said as he caught Cass in another kiss.

Cass couldn't help but smile into his lips as she pulled back ever so slightly, just enough so that she could speak.

"If it was, it would be working," she admitted in a whisper.

**Author's Note: Well, I'm back from Fuerteventura. :) As much as I loved it, I have to say: Home is where the heart is. I miss British weather too much to leave for too long. :P Plus, they drive on the wrong side of the road there, so you know... :P Kidding, well, sort of. A number of ridiculous things happened to me this holiday that I thought I'd just fill you guys in on, you know, for your amusement- and for me to get it out of my system. :P**

**First, my laptop fell out of my bag and smashed a fair bit (Somehow it still works, even if the screen is quite dodged up). I burnt my knees, twice (Don't ask, I really don't know how... :P). I saw far too many **_**large**_** men in speedos. Large or not- speedos are just **_**WRONG**_**. And then, some stupid Chinese restaurant tried to feed me chicken hidden in a spring roll and then thought three plastic bracelets would make up for it. I mean, FFS. I'M A VEGETARIAN. Needless to say- Catherine=not a happy bunny (which meant that neither were my family because I wouldn't stop moaning about it from then on :P).**

**Oh and I read the last three books in one of my favourite book series' and guess what. My favourite character **_**dies**_**. I **_**swear**_**, I am like the character **_**jinx**_**. So if I like a character in something, they are nearly guaranteed to kick the bucket. Urgh, anyway, so yeah... Whinge over. :P It's nice to be back. :)**

**Kit xx**


	67. Misunderstanding

_ "You can change her fate, but you can't change _us._" _That's what Tristan had said. And how right he was. Those words had been running over in Cass' mind all morning. She had declined joining Tristan on his early morning scout of the Fort's perimeter, knowing that Nuala would be all but lost without her at the Fort.

As Cass and Nuala sat at the bar in the tavern, Cass' mind flickered back to Tristan's comment once more. The Knights had been nothing but cold towards the Woad woman. All save for Dagonet, who had given her a nod in greeting as the two women passed. But Cass just couldn't imagine Dagonet acting coldly toward anyone, let alone the increasingly quiet Nuala.

That was another thing that Cass had to consider.Nuala seemed to be shrinking as her position in the Fort became growing both more and less certain. The decision had been final; but the way the Knights and others of the Fort were reacting to Nuala made her question how long she would actually be living at the Fort.

_I wish there was somewhere else for me to go_, Nuala thought sadly as she shifted under the uncomfortable weight of the still-too-many stares that were aimed her way. Since she'd been at the Fort though, Nuala had even been considering finding some way to get out and meet up with another group of Woads- something she never before would have thought to do.

"They'll stop staring soon enough. When they find something else to occupy their interest," Cass had said when they'd walked through the Fort, as if she'd read Nuala's mind.

Nuala very much doubted that that was true but she gave Cass a nod anyway. The two women made their way through the Fort, to the tailor where Cass had bought the dresses not given to her by Vanora. At first, the stares of those working there had given Nuala were a little off-putting, the two women soon sunk into selecting appropriate dresses for Nuala.

"You know, this feels a _little_ too much like retail therapy for my liking," Cass said as they left the shop.

Nuala frowned as she confusedly enquired, "Retail therapy?"

Cass blinked. _Crap. Why am I just blatantly saying things that might reveal my secret?_ she thought, feeling a flash of anger at her own stupidity.

"Sorry, I didn't mean-"

"You do say some strange things, you know," Nuala said quietly.

"Believe me, I know," Cass answered with a sideways smile, glad that Nuala was letting her off this time and reminding herself, once again, to be more careful.

Nuala let Cass drop the subject even though she was curious- and even though she felt that the younger woman thoroughly deserved to be questioned on it as she had been questioning Nuala on her life all through their little shopping experience.

Nuala changed into one of the new dresses that she'd bought with Cass' help- after all, she had no way to pay for them herself. Wearing a longer dress that fit her much better, Nuala felt a little more comfortable walking around beside Cass. If it were not for the fact that her hair was still braided into a long plait, then it would be almost hard to tell that she was the same reluctant Woad who'd entered the Fort, skin painted blue.

So when the two women came across Tristan, Galahad, Lancelot and Gawain, it was no surprise that the Knights paused, their eyes trailing cautiously over Nuala. They nodded to Cass and yet continued to regard Nuala coldly. Cass frowned at them but said nothing. Tristan had already made it very clear that nothing she said would change the way that they felt toward Nuala. But both women noticed as they took in Nuala in her less then Woad-like dress though.

"So... you're doing a relatively good job of not looking like a Woad," Galahad observed.

"Well, yes..." Nuala eventually replied with a shrug.

"Why?" Lancelot asked.

Nuala's eyes flickered to his as she waited for him to continue.

When he didn't, she asked, "Why what?"

"Why are you trying to hide what you are?"

Nuala scowled and answered, "People here don't tend to take too warmly to Woads."

"I wonder why," Galahad put in sarcastically.

Something in Nuala snapped as she replied, "Look, I don't expect _you_ to understand what we do."

"And who _do_ you expect to understand?"

Nuala let out a deep breath as she tried to keep her voice calm.

"I don't want people here to know that I'm a Woad because they're so... _unintelligent_... They can't understand what we do- just like you can't. They stand by whilst we fight for what is ours, against _you,_ who don't even want to be here yourselves."

The Knights didn't reply for a moment as Nuala paused for a second. The eyes of people passing were drawn to the increasingly-heated conversation between the Woad and the Knights.

"You hate the Romans. We hate the Romans. We only hate _you_ because you do as they say. All we're doing is fighting for our land- our freedom. Before I'd have thought that you _might_ have been able to understand that, but since I've been here I've only discovered that I _sorely_ overestimated you."

And with that, Nuala turned on her heel and walked away. The Knights were left standing speechless as Nuala departed, and Cass could only stare at them open-mouthed.

"And you couldn't just be _nice_?" Cass asked them, her voice so loud that it was obvious her question was rhetorical.

None of the Knights replied and she looked to Tristan. But all she found when she met his eye was a look that reminded her of his words again. _Too right I can't change them_, she thought, irritated.

"Brilliant. Just _brilliant_," Cass said as she followed after the Woad woman.

Nuala had made her way quite far by the time Cass managed to catch up with her. She found the slightly older woman, sat halfway up the steps of the Wall, her arms crossed over herself. The expression on Nuala's face was not a happy one; in fact, she was staring at the stone wall, scowling as Cass took a seat beside her.

Cass was going to say something, but she didn't know what _to_ say. She couldn't say that the Knights didn't mean what they'd said or how they'd acted; because they had. But thankfully, Nuala snapped out of her angry stare to turn to Cass, and she spoke first instead.

"I feel like a prisoner."

"Oh Nuala, you know that you're not," Cass replied, a sad frown on her face.

"This was a bad idea... I don't belong here."

"It just takes some time-" Cass started to reason.

"You should have just let them kill me or let me go," Nuala said, her tone still barren of emotion.

"Nuala, you know that I couldn't let them kill you... And they'd never have let you go..."

"Anything would have been better than this."

"Are you sure about that, Nuala? Would you really have preferred _death_?" Cass enquired, her frown deepening.

Nuala frowned too, and she eventually answered, "Would have been easier..."

"_Life's_ not easy though... Isn't that the point?" Cass asked, trying to lighten the tone of the conversation.

"Perhaps..."

"Things would go a lot easier if you got yourself a job, I'd bet," Cass suggested, raising an eyebrow at the woman.

Nuala closed her eyes and sighed.

"How did I know that you'd bring that up again?" she asked.

"Because I'm predictable and you know I'm right," Cass replied quickly with a grin.

Nuala rolled her eyes, "If you say so."

Silence swept between them as Nuala seemed determined to end the topic of conversation with that. Cass was more than determined, however, to continually badger Nuala until she caved in- as Nuala soon discovered. After what felt like hours of continual questioning and persuading, but was really only about twenty minutes, Cass got what she was looking for.

"Just give me something? _Anything_?" Cass asked for about the twelfth time.

"_Fine_," Nuala answered, speaking for the first time since Cass had started trying to talk her into revealing something about herself.

Cass' smile was wide and, as Nuala saw it, surprisingly genuine.

"So?" Cass pressed her eagerly.

"I know enough healing to get by," Nuala replied eventually.

"Really...?" Cass murmured, more to herself than in response.

"_Really_," Nuala repeated with a small nod.

In the short pause in which Cass considered what was the best next course of action, Nuala just sat beside her and waited. She could swear she could see the younger woman's brain ticking over as she formulated a plan- what the end result would be though, Nuala had no idea.

"I think it might be a good idea if you had a word with Dagonet, he-"

"_No_, Cass," Nuala interrupted quickly.

Cass looked slightly confused at the woman's reluctance.

"Well... why?" she asked unsurely.

"He's a _Knight_; trust me, the further I am away from them, the better."

"Nuala, come on. Dagonet's not like that," Cass started.

"I'll admit that some- _most_ of them are, but Dagonet's not."

Nuala stared at Cass sceptically as if nothing she had just said made any difference.

"Trust me on this. Please?"

With a reluctant sigh, Nuala nodded at Cass. She just hoped that she wasn't going to regret what she'd agreed to.

**Author's Note: Gahhhhhhh, writer's block. ¬¬ That's all I have to say on the matter... Oh, and also, I really don't like this chapter. It's short, and was, for some reason, incredibly difficult to write, and made me want to smack my head against the wall repeatedly. :/**

**Anywayyyyyy...**

**Okay so maybe, as a lot of you have noticed, I am basically **_**shoving**_** Nuala and Dag together. But, to be honest, I don't think Dag gets enough love, so I'm perfectly okay with doing it. :P Besides, I never said things were going to run **_**smoothly**_**, did I? ;) Because (let's face it) nothing in **_**any**_** of my stories **_**ever**_** runs according to how my characters want it to. :P**

**Kit xx**


	68. New Deals

With one of Cass' hands around her thin wrist, Nuala found herself pulled along after Cass. After the conversation- or more like one-sided shouting match- she'd just had with some of the Knights, Nuala wasn't sure she could face having to speak to one of them. Of course, she knew that Dagonet hadn't been among those she'd basically yelled at, but that didn't stop her from holding to her reluctance anyway.

The two women entered the tavern, the first place Cass had thought to locate Dagonet, and, sure enough, they saw the tall, quiet Knight sat beside his infinitely louder companion that Nuala recognised to be Bors. She'd not be able to forget _him_ in a hurry.

As they neared the Knights' table, Cass found it increasingly hard to tug Nuala after her. _Why did I even open my mouth?_ Nuala thought, regretting that she'd ever let the words slip from her mouth as the smaller woman stopped in front of the table. The two Knights there looked up to see the women standing before them, one grinning, and the other wearing an expression of mixed annoyance and anxiety.

"Bors, Dagonet," Cass said, smiling in greeting.

"Cass, Nuala," Dagonet replied, mimicking the gesture.

"We were wondering if we could have a word, Dagonet?" Cass asked, her smile keeping its place in her expression.

Nuala almost groaned. _Here it comes_, she thought when she saw Dagonet nod and move to stand. The three stepped slightly away from Bors, who, as usual, was unconcerned and content to continue drinking. Dagonet tilted his head, and politely waited for one of the women to say something. As he had easily predicted, it was Cass who broke the silence first.

"It turns out that Nuala here," she started.

"Is quite a talented healer-"

"I didn't say _that_," Nuala interrupted quickly when one of Dagonet's brows rose.

Cass flashed her a serious gaze that made Nuala sigh. _If only I hadn't opened my mouth at all_, she thought, almost miserably.

"Anyway, we-"

Nuala interrupted her with a warning glare that said '_we_' was definitely not the right word for her to have used.

"-_I-"_ Cass corrected.

"-thought it might be a good idea, if you showed her around the infirmary or something?" Cass finished, leaving the end of that question open to suggestion.

"Only if you don't mind that is," Nuala put in, not wanting him to feel as if he owed it to Cass as his friend to do something he didn't want to.

"I don't mind," Dagonet reassured her, his deep voice calm and seemingly soothing.

A flash of relief seemed to wash over Nuala with Dagonet's answer. And with that the two sprung up a conversation about the different medical aspects that they were accustomed to. Cass left the two of them to their discussion, disappearing when the topic had become far too medical for her liking.

Cass decided that she would head back to her room to grab her bow and some arrows. _Some practice would probably be a good thing_, she thought as she headed back to her and Tristan's room. But she stopped as she, once again, came across the Knights returning from their own short training session.

"Where's your friend?" Galahad asked, frowning slightly.

"Don't sulk, Galahad. You know you deserved it," Cass simply replied.

Then she added, "She's with Dagonet- at least _they_ can get along."

Lancelot rolled his eyes at the petite woman before him and Galahad only barely managed to resist mimicking the gesture. Before he could reply, however, Tristan swept between them and caught Cass' elbow, gently tugging her in the direction that she was originally headed. Cass' eyes flickered to his as Tristan led her away, but she didn't pull against his grip.

"Well?" she asked when they were sufficiently far away from the others.

Tristan levelled her with his deep, brown-eyed gaze while they continued to walk.

"As well meaning as you're trying to be, you need to stop."

Cass paused, her feet planting firmly on the ground. Tristan took in a deep breath as he turned back to face her.

"What?" she questioned him, her brows drawing together.

"Nuala will make her own decisions, and so shall we.

"Tristan-"

"You can't fix everything, Cass. No matter how hard you try. And if you keep trying the way you are now, all that will happen is that you will push yourself away from us."

The unspoken additive; from _me_. Cass scowled, and tried to walk away from Tristan. Of course, she couldn't. His hand on her elbow held her back from making her escape.

"You have to be less involved in this."

Tristan tried to meet her eye, but she was desperately avoiding his. He had known since Cass had convinced them not to kill Nuala that this would not work out well. It was inevitable that a Woad and the Sarmatian Knights would not get along; but that was not what concerned Tristan. What worried him was the fact that if Cass didn't step back from the situation, he was sure that it would tear her apart.

"If _I_ don't do what I'm doing then _no one_ will," Cass answered, finally daring to meet his gaze.

"If you don't stop then it will tear a rift between all of us," he reasoned, his voice ever-calm.

"I-I know..." she whispered, faltering slightly.

A frown still crinkling her brows, Cass added, "Why do I feel as though we've already had this conversation?"

"Because we have," Tristan reasoned.

Cass stood still as Tristan moved around her. The corners of her lips turned upward at the sight of the familiar glint in the Knight's eyes and her head tilted slightly when he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

The next morning, Cass found herself standing outside of her old room, waiting for Nuala to answer. She'd knocked twice now, and was beginning to get the feeling that Nuala just was not there. _Crap_, Cass thought. _Where the hell is she? _The worst things possible ran through her head so quickly that Cass had soon convinced herself that the Woad woman was either an incredibly heavy sleeper, or that she'd run.

Cass hoped that it wasn't the latter, but when she opened the door, all that she found staring back at her was the empty room that she'd once sat studying. _Crap, crap, crap_. Trying to calm herself from thoughts overrunning reason, Cass went straight for the tavern. All she could do was hope that, by some small chance, she would find Nuala there. She always seemed to find _everyone_ in the tavern, after all.

To her intense relief, Cass _did _find Nuala seated at the bar top. As she let her moments of anxiety pass, Cass took a deep breath. Nuala wasn't alone though; surprisingly, Dagonet sat beside her. Neither of them having noticed her, Cass stood where she was and watched the pair of them talk.

They actually appeared to be getting along, small expressions of amusement on both of their faces. _Who'd have thought it?_ Cass asked herself, smiling at the good-natured conversation unexpectedly running back and forth between the Knight and the Woad.

A hand on her shoulder made her jump slightly, and she quickly turned to see Tristan standing behind her, a small smirk on his lips. Cass blushed, but returned the smile with a roll of her eyes.

"You always were fascinated by watching," he said quietly.

"Says the scout," Cass replied quickly, a smile curling her lips.

What he said was true, however. Cass could clearly remember when she'd first arrived at the Fort, and how she'd stood, just watching the Knights at their table. Of course, she also remembered how Tristan had come up behind her and startled her into smacking her head against one of the wooden supports of the tavern.

Dagonet and Nuala still did not notice the two of them as Tristan guided Cass over to the corner table. She ate with the Knights, who came into the tavern in dribs and drabs. And Cass didn't fail to notice how their eyes trailed over to where their brother and Nuala sat at the bar top, though none of them passed comment.

Cass couldn't stop herself from stealing glances at Dagonet and Nuala throughout the meal- just as the Knights did- and she could only barely suppress the tiny smile that wanted to rise to her lips at the sight. When she'd finished, Cass stood with all intention of going over to the two at the bar. But it seemed that Tristan had other ideas as he, too, stood and caught her hand.

"Leave Nuala with Dagonet," he said quietly.

"But-" Cass started.

"Come," Tristan interrupted swiftly.

And Cass found herself following the Knight as he led her by the hand from the tavern. She recognised the route immediately, and a questioning frown turned her features- though Tristan, who was in front of her, did not even see the expression.

He pulled her into their room and turned to her, catching the bemused frown that creased her features. That familiar glint flickered in his eyes as he closed the door, the right corner of his lips curling upward.

"Tristan, what-?" Cass started, but the look that Tristan gave her made her pause.

He stopped in front of her as she tilted her head enquiringly at him. Cass didn't know what he was doing, but as his fingers came up to rest on her shoulders, she had more than a vague inkling. Her suspicions were confirmed then though when Tristan's fingers moved, adeptly slipping the dress from her shoulders until it pooled at her feet.

Cass felt herself blush, but she did nothing but hold herself still as she stood before him in her underwear and thinking that she knew what would happen next. But when Tristan's touch fell away from her skin and he turned from her, leaving Cass even more confused than she had been before, Cass could only blink as she watched him walk away.

Tristan turned back to her from where he'd walked to, a small pile of unfamiliar clothes in his hands. Cass frowned again while Tristan merely gazed back at her, a smirk turning his expression. Clearly, this had not been what Cass was expecting, and, because of that, Cass only blushed more at her assumption. The Knight placed the small pile in her hand and watched as she looked through the clothes.

"Tristan, what- when did you-?" but Tristan interrupted her once again.

"You need better fitting clothes if you're going to insist on joining us on every mission."

"Oh," Cass whispered, almost sighing.

"Thank you."

"Speaking of you joining us," Tristan started.

Cass' brows rose as she waited for him to finish, curious as to how that sentence would end.

"There are a few things I must teach you before you go anywhere."

"Really? Like what?" Cass asked, intrigued.

True to form, and as mysterious as ever, Tristan did not reply. He merely took the tunic-like shirt from her hands and motioned for her to dress. She blushed and smiled a little, quickly slipping into the tight-fitting black leggings that hugged her form in a comfortable way.

Cass looked to Tristan for the dark tunic that he held, but the look in his eyes had her pause. Tilting his head to the side, Tristan lifted Cass' arms above her head. And he slowly slid the material over her body, his fingers brushing over her skin at her sides. Cass couldn't help but shiver and blush more intensely at the seemingly innocent gesture.

She didn't get to dwell on the sensation however, as, when she was dressed, Tristan took hold of her hand again and turned her back to the door. He started pulling her toward the door, but Cass didn't move. He looked to her, and, seeing the confusion in her expression, he paused also.

"Don't I need my weapons?"

All Tristan did was shake his head before pulling her out of their room once more. Cass shook her head but followed him all the way to the hill that they usually trained on.

They were alone, and Cass thought that the hill felt strangely empty without the others there. But Tristan soon distracted her. He explained to her that he was going to teach her to fight without a weapon. To fight using her hands.

Cass blinked. It wasn't too hard for her to figure out what had prompted this though, as she thought back to when she'd fought the Woad that had almost overpowered her. She needed to learn this if she wanted to stand _any_ chance at protecting _anyone_.

Tristan's finger stroked lightly over the bruise on her jaw that had been given to her by that same Woad. Obviously, he remembered the incident just as well as she did.

Their training began with Tristan lining Cass up into position, readying her stance as he would have done had she a sword in hand. He showed her the areas that were weakest on her opponent- the areas that she should aim to hit when strike out at them.

Even after that though, Cass did not seem to take to close combat fighting as well as Tristan had hoped. He blocked every attempt she had made to gain the upper hand. And he could see exactly how frustrated that Cass was getting because of it.

"Perhaps we should try with me coming at you from behind," Tristan suggested, hoping to offer Cass a fresh chance at trying to beat him.

Cass couldn't stop the small smile from coming to her lips as Tristan repositioned them both.

"SING, right?" she said, before Tristan could even explain how she should move.

Tristan stared at her, a flash of confusion passing over his usually-masked expression.

"Solar flexes, Instep, Nose, Groin?" Cass explained.

Hastily, she muttered, "Never mind."

And, with that, Tristan went on with his explanation, ignoring what tried to dismiss. Each time Tristan came at her though, the result was, once again, the same. Cass ended up sitting- though, more often than not, she was lying flat on her back- on the ground, with Tristan atop of her, pinning her down. Cass blinked at the fluid ease and unpredictability of his movements.

Sometimes it was just _too_ easy for her to forget exactly how deadly Tristan could be- and just how easily he could beat her if he wished to. And that was why, when Cass actually found herself on top of Tristan, having pinned _him_ down, that Cass knew something wasn't right.

"You let me win that time," she accused.

A small smile curled his lips as, in one simple movement, Tristan rolled Cass onto her back. She laughed as she found herself quickly outmanoeuvred and lying, once again, on her back with Tristan straddling her, his hands covering her wrists. In some odd way, the position was almost intimate, and Cass unconsciously blushed.

"Perhaps," he agreed.

"Guess I need to work on this a little bit more..." Cass said, acknowledging her obvious incompetence in this aspect of the fight.

The good thing, however, was that Cass was well aware that if she focussed her attention and practiced enough, then she _could_ improve. Just as she had done with archery.

"We have time," Tristan answered before leaning down to place a small kiss on the lips of his captive lover.

**Author's Note: The writer's block finally cleared! :D It only took me this long to post this because I've had a really hectic time recently. Had a pretty awesome day the other day. **_**Finally**_** got my A level results- **_**and**_** I got into university! :D I also got my cartilage pierced, then had a curry. Sorry... M'just insanely happy about that. :P :D**

**Got a bit annoyed that I didn't get Uni accommodation, but no worries now, I found myself a house to share with eighteen other students. And I have my own little quirky attic room. It's brill. :D**

**Anyway, sorry for the randomness. :P Hope you liked the chapter! :)**

**(Oh, and the SING thing? Miss Congeniality. Couldn't resist given the opportunity to put it in there. :P :) )**

**Kit xx**


	69. Matters of Importance

"We have time," Tristan had said.

But neither he nor Cass knew then how wrong he actually was. Two days later, the Knights were called out on a mission to locate a group of raiders that had been persistently attacking travellers and supply wagons. Apparently, the matter was of great importance. But before they could even think about leaving, they found that they had another problem on their hands. Nuala.

None of the Knights wanted to leave Nuala at the Fort without their presence to keep her to their bargain. The only alternative they had however, was to take her with them; and _all of them_ thought that _that_ was a bad idea.

Tristan had suggested that Cass stay with the woman to keep her out of trouble, but, noticing the double standards that that would also mean Cass stayed safe and in the Fort, the dark-haired woman firmly shook her head and refused the option.

So, after Arthur and the others had spoken with Nuala, giving her a firm warning of what the Roman soldiers at the Fort had been ordered to do should she try to escape- and after both Bors and Cass had informed Vanora of their mission- the Knights and Cass rode out.

Almost moments after they'd left the stables, it started to rain. Cass once more found herself glad that she'd bought her cloak as she curled herself into its warmth, trying to protect herself from the cold droplets. They rode on in the increasingly dismal weather for hours before the sky started to clear; and, by that point, everyone was in a less than pleasant mood.

Tristan rode ahead of the group; a necessity as they searched for the raiders that took them so far from the Fort. So Cass rode with the others, feeling somewhat separated from them because of her newfound friendship with the Woad woman that most of them refused to even _try_ to like.

She realised then the extent her bond with Nuala was affecting them. Tristan had warned her, yet Cass could not abandon Nuala so easily, not since she knew that they had killed her only family. One thing that puzzled her, however, was that Dagonet was not being given the same, almost-awkward, treatment as she. _Probably because he doesn't go around yelling at the others_, Cass surmised, regretting the action.

Eventually, the rain stopped and Cass felt a pang of relief as she let the warmth of her cloak slip from where it was swirled around her. Goosebumps ran up her arms as the cold air made contact with her skin, but the feeling was almost pleasant after so long wrapped in her stifling cloak.

They did not stop until the sky darkened. It was not that the dark made it impossible for Tristan to locate the raiders, though it did make the task harder. And neither was it that they could not have ridden through the night, though it would have made the day following harder too.

The Knights stopped only to rest the horses that they had ridden hard all day. And it was only then that Cass was granted some reprieve from the day's quietness. Around the fire they built, she sat between Dagonet and Tristan, leaning slightly on the latter Knight's arm.

After a while, Cass couldn't help herself from asking, "So, Dagonet... How's Nuala doing in the infirmary?"

The tall Knight turned his head to her before answering, pausing a moment to consider his answer. He was well aware that the others were listening in on his answer. And the others were listening; because, try as they might, they couldn't help but be interested in the Woad woman.

"She's doing well... She knows a lot and listens well," Dagonet replied eventually.

But Cass could tell that there was more to that answer than the quiet Knight was willing to provide right then. She had been watching Dagonet and Nuala over the past couple of days and had noticed that they got on more than just a _little_ well. Dagonet's personality was such that no one could fail to like him, and Cass clearly wasn't the only one to notice that Nuala was no different in that sense.

_There's _so _something going on there, even if the Knights refuse to admit it..._ she thought, letting the conversation drop for the time being. _It's really none of my business unless Dagonet actually wants to say..._

The evening was uneventful. Each of the party took their turn on watch- something that Cass was still new to, so she once again, unsurprisingly, found herself paired with Tristan. Cass found it almost pleasant that she was able to spend some time with the Knight after a day of his absence.

"I should really keep my mouth closed, shouldn't I?" Cass said, her voice interrupting the silence.

Tristan turned to face her in the dark and, after a while, he nodded. To that reply, Cass merely sighed. He'd been telling her for days, but she'd just not listened. But from that tiny admittance in the middle of the night, surrounded by wilderness, Cass determined that she would no longer meddle as she had been. Though how long that would last, she, unfortunately, wasn't too sure.

The next morning brought only more cold from the early hours onwards. Cold that Cass was only too happy to shy away from by hiding under her cloak. It took Tristan a fair amount of coaxing to convince the woman to emerge from her cocoon-like wrap; of course, it did help that he was wrapped up beside her and getting up whether she did or not.

Grumbling, Cass scowled at Tristan, quickly rubbing her eyes as the Knight began gathering things from around the camp. Right now, Cass hated getting up. In her mind, at that moment in the very least, there was nothing worse than waking up outside with the sky was still dark as the cold seeped through to her skin.

Cass quickly told herself to _suck it up and get up already_ though, because it was her choice to join the Knights on their missions- and they seemed perfectly alright with rising at so early an hour. Everyone apart from Bors anyway, whose complaints were far worse- and _louder_- than Cass' on waking.

And, before Cass knew it, they had begun riding once more, following the invisible trail that seemingly only Tristan could see. Silence fell amongst them for their second day's ride, but that was simply because Tristan had doubled back early that morning to inform them that they were closing in on the group of raiders.

From then on, they had ridden harder and faster, and it didn't take them long to come across the raiders' camp. Tristan explained the layout of the camp from a safe distance away; informing them that the raiders' camp was beside a small river and backed onto waterfall that dropped into a seemingly large lake.

"So if we ambush them, then that should quell any attempt for retreat or escape," Tristan added after he'd finished mapping out what he'd seen to the others.

"Unless any of them feel like swimming," Bors put in with a sideways grin.

"In this weather? You've got to be kidding," Cass answered, shuddering at the thought of how cold it would be.

"It's either that or we kill them. Which would you chose were you in their position?" Gawain asked her.

To that Cass could only smile ruefully and nod back at the long-haired Knight. And so it was decided that they would ambush the raiders, giving them no chance to run or even readily prepare themselves for the attack. It began quickly; and even though the Knights were vastly outnumbered, it was clear that their weapons expertise and experience was superior- even Cass' was to an extent.

The raiders seemed to die quickly, thudding to the ground as felled trees, leaking sticky blood instead of sticky sap. Cass couldn't help wondering how it was that these men had managed to surprise so many when they could be taken down so easily.

She was quick to realise the answer to that question, however. Numbers. And amongst that, a few that were truly skilled fighters. Of course, Cass only understood that when she found herself face to face with one of those few, and, at first underestimating him, quickly put herself at a disadvantage.

The strength and placement of his blows had Cass straining to hold her ground. She tried using quicker movements and jabs against his brute force, but he met her equally in blocking every touch of her sword. That was when a slight twinge of fear crept its way into Cass, and she found herself wondering, _Am I fighting someone that I can't beat?_

Just as her struggle with the man she had unjustly underestimated started to show, and Cass _knew_ that she actually _was_ in trouble, someone intervened. And it wasn't who she had expected at all.

Arthur came between the two of them, Excalibur blocking the harsh blow that Cass was fairly sure she wouldn't have been able to block. Her breathing heavy, Cass stepped back as Arthur took over where she'd left off; only _he_ was doing far better in this fight than Cass had done.

At least, so she had thought. Cass, luckily, was still close enough to Arthur to see it happen though. The man he fought had somehow managed to knock Excalibur from his grip, sending the sword swinging through the air until it disappeared into the deep water at the side of the camp.

Time almost seemed to slow for a moment as Cass' eyes followed its path and, before she knew it, she was next to Arthur again and quickly handing him her swords. She couldn't help him as he'd helped her, but she could at least hand him weapons with which he could defend himself.

Arthur was confused; yet not confused enough to stop him from using the twin blades to fight and, eventually, end the life of the man who'd disarmed him. And when Arthur turned to return at least one of Cass' swords to her, he saw only her back as she ran in the opposite direction.

_What the hell are you doing, Cass? _she asked herself, only to immediately know the response. _Excalibur wouldn't be in the lake if I wasn't here. It's my responsibility to get it back._ And with what she was about to do, Cass was glad she'd seen Tristan was too far away to stop her in time, otherwise she was sure that he would interfere.

With one last step, Cass left the edge of small cliff and dove down the line of the waterfall. She wasn't aware if anyone had even noticed what she'd done as she plunged into the water. Then she was only aware of the cold. And the fact that she had to find Excalibur- quickly.

Cass swam to the surface, only emerging so that she could get her breath before beginning her search. She swam down to the lake's bottom that, thankfully, was not _too_ deep. But the lack of light and abundance of murky water made her task harder; and, in fact, it took several dives before Cass made any progress at all.

The cold had by that point sunk beneath her skin; pushing her past the point of shivering. She was freezing, but Cass wouldn't let herself give up. Not yet. Not when this was so important. _Come on, Cass. Pull yourself together_, she commanded herself.

A glint of something metallic caught her eye as she was about to rise to the surface again. Not wanting to lose sight of the flash of reflected light, Cass pushed herself closer. Finally, her hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword that she'd spent so much time and breath looking for and Cass rose the surface of the lake- never before as glad to be getting out of the water.

Cass emerged only to encounter a different problem all together. The cliff that she'd just dove off of; she now had to climb- and this time with a sword and frozen limbs. But Cass forced herself. She knew that she had to; and she did, after tying Excalibur to her waist.

The sound of fighting lessened as she drew herself up the mud and rock cliff face. By the time Cass had almost climbed to the top, it had stopped altogether. And that was when the figure appeared at her destination. Right above her, with the tiniest flash of worry in his expression, stood Tristan. _Obviously he did see me go over then_, Cass thought, cursing silently at the chastising that he was sure to give her later.

But she would never regret that he was there, or that his hand reached out to help pull her over the top of the cliff. And, even though she was soaking wet and freezing cold, Tristan pulled her into his arms, using his own body heat in an attempt to warm her.

"What did you do that for, Cass?" he asked her in a sigh.

Cass was about to reply when her shivers returned to her, stuttering her response so that it was incomprehensible. So instead, she merely withdrew Arthur's sword from where she tied it for the climb and handed it to Tristan.

"All this for a sword?"

After a few attempts, Cass managed to get out, "I- it's- im- portant."

Instead of answering, Tristan shook his head at her and pulled her closer to him. That was when Arthur approached, both of Cass' swords, freshly cleaned and in his hands. Concern furrowed his brow.

"Cass?"

The mention of her name caught Cass' attention, and she looked up from where she was pressed into Tristan's chest, her bottom-lip still quivering with shivers. She caught Arthur's eye quickly and noticed that he frowned at her.

"Why did you do that?"

Cass tried to reiterate what she had already told Tristan; Excalibur was important. But she found herself struggling to speak even more than she had been before. Thankfully, Tristan spoke for her though.

"She said the sword is important," he said, handing Arthur the sword in question.

There was an edge to his voice that Cass didn't know what to think of. It was annoyance and anger; and it was almost as if Tristan was directing that towards Arthur, because it was _his _sword that Cass had put herself in danger for. But soon that didn't matter to Cass, or it did, but she couldn't think about it anymore; because another wisp of biting wind flung itself toward them. Tristan looked down at her as her shivers seemed to start wracking her entire body now.

After a number of stuttered tries, Cass finally hissed, "R-r... R-r-really... c-cold."

Brow creasing, Tristan turned back to Dagonet who was quickly approaching.

"You jumped in the lake?" Dagonet asked as he caught sight of the still dripping-wet woman embraced in Tristan's arms.

"Why did you do that?" he murmured under his breath as he placed a large hand on Cass' forehead.

If she could have answered, Cass would have told Dagonet exactly the same as she'd told Tristan, and as Tristan had told Arthur on her behalf. To herself, she wondered why it was that the Knights seemed to think that she'd just jump into the lake in this weather without proper cause._ Because I just fancied a nice dip_, she thought sarcastically to herself.

While distracted by her thoughts, Cass hadn't noticed that the Knights had continued talking. She tried to tune back into what they were saying, but found it more than hard. Cass was freezing; freezing and tired. Increasingly so, in the case of the latter.

But when she did finally manage to catch the conversation taking place, Cass was distinctly sure she'd heard Dagonet say, "She needs to get out of those clothes."

Cass blinked, wondering if she'd misheard the tall Knight for a moment. She had not the voice to utter her query though, only chattering teeth. A few more words passed between the men- words that Cass failed to hear- before she felt herself lifted into Tristan's arms.

In truth, Cass really had no idea what was happening and as Tristan started walking away from the lake, she found herself asking, _Why _did_ I do that? This is how people get pneumonia or some crap like that._ And that thought _didn't_ comfort her in the slightest.

Cass closed her eyes for what felt like the tiniest of moments, only to find herself woken by Tristan's voice and a hand shaking almost roughly on her shoulder. She blinked slowly back to consciousness until the shape of the dark Knight that she loved came back into focus.

"Now is not the time for sleeping. You must stay awake."

Cass frowned slightly at the comment. She wanted to sleep. Though slightly warmer than before, the cold had still wormed its way inside of her. Sleep seemed like such a good idea at the time. All she had to do was close her eyes-

"_Don't_, Cass," she heard Tristan say firmly.

With a sigh of frosty breath, Cass opened her eyes again. Apparently, no matter how she felt, Tristan wasn't going to let her have any sleep right now. She shot him a small scowl before realising that she had been missing some things entirely since Tristan had shaken her into consciousness again.

Firstly, her _clothes_ were gone; and, instead, she found herself wrapped in a number of furs and blankets. She blinked and looked passed Tristan to the small tent of thick material that rose above them.

"Wh-" she started, but Tristan knew the question she would ask and shortly interrupted her with an answer.

"In one of the raiders' wagons. We're on our way back to the Fort," he said softly.

Cass replied with a small nod, but said nothing. She was relatively sure that if she tried, then Tristan would simply stop her again. Instead, Cass tried to push herself up, but Tristan's hand on her shoulder kept her where she was- and she didn't have the strength to push against Tristan when she was healthy, let alone when she felt as she did right now.

Sighing again, Cass squinted as she looked around the relatively full wagon. It seemed to be full of things that were valuable or at least of some worth and Cass only had to throw Tristan a questioning glance for him to explain.

"Things they stole from Romans; we'll have to return them soon."

Cass nodded once more and the pair lapsed into silence. By now, Cass was aware that they were indeed on the move. She could feel every jostle the wagon made that shook the tiny space that she and Tristan occupied. It felt like a long time before Tristan broke that silence

"Some things are more important than a sword," he said, his voice so low that Cass almost struggled to hear him.

"You've been misinformed about _that_ sword then, Tristan," Cass answered, something vaguely sad in the raspy, unused edge of her voice.

She _was_ glad that he was letting her speak this time, however.

"Even so; don't do anything so reckless again; for _both_ our sakes."

"It was my fault that it ended up in the lake. Arthur saved me, and he wouldn't have been disarmed otherwise."

But Tristan stopped her from making any other attempt at convincing him that her actions were just.

"Just don't do it again," he whispered.

Those words had ended that conversation right then and there; and Cass knew that even should she try, there would be no persuading Tristan that reclaiming Excalibur had been the right thing to do.

It took the Knights longer to return to the Fort than it had to find the raiders' camp. That was mostly because of the cargo that they had had to reclaim from the raiders' camp, which, in fact, took up another wagon than the one that Tristan and Cass were in.

The group arrived at the Fort on the evening of the second day's travelling, and Cass would admit that she was rather glad to be back. He didn't usually get travel sick, but the fact that she already felt ill coupled with the constant shifts and jumps of the wagon, had brought the feeling out in her.

Cass felt better than she had since taking a literal dive for Excalibur, now more as if she had a mere cold than anything worse. Tristan still seemed to worry about her though he didn't let the emotion register on his face. Tristan climbed out of the wagon first, and then turned back to help Cass, dressed in her now-dry clothes, do the same.

Her feet had barely touched the ground when she heard Lancelot's voice say, "Well, look who's feeling better; our very own lady of the lake."

Lancelot gave a bow that was in no way mocking, merely filled with banter. Cass blinked at him for a second before bursting out into a fit of laughter; and all of the Knights stared at her uncomprehendingly. It took Cass a moment to hold back her laughter at the sudden realisation that her actions may have just inadvertently made _her_ a creature of myth. _Did I just make myself the Lady of the Lake?_

She answered their stares with a smile and added, "I'll explain over dinner."

**Author's Note: I'm SO sorry it took me this long to get this chapter to you guys! I just start Uni and I'm finding it hard to fit writing any of my fics in to the workload. :/ It's really weird though, 'cus I've had this chapter planned out since almost the beginning of the story; I don't get why it was so hard to write... :/**

**On the bright side, I found another Mads Mikkelsen lover in my house- what are the chances? :D**

**Anyway, I'm off to go get drunk. KIDDING. It's only 10.30am, gotta wait at least another hour and a half for that kind of behaviour...**

**Kit xx**


	70. The Distrusted

If Nuala had thought that life at the Fort _with_ the Knights around had been awkward or difficult, then she knew nothing of what it would be like when they were away. As it turned out, the drama surrounding Nuala and the Knights had, in fact, isolated her from the opinions of everyone else at the Fort.

But with the Knights gone, she soon found out. It didn't take long after Cass and the Knights had ridden out for the comments to start reaching her ears. They were mere whispers, but that fact made it no better.

"Look, that's her- the _Woad_."

"The one the Knights brought back?"

"Yes, _that_ one. Look at her; she's so... _uncivilised_."

Nuala had resisted the urge to glare at whoever made that comment. _How can someone walk by _uncivilly_?_ she thought, frowning at the whisperers and tutting at their stupidity.

The worst of opinions thrown at her came when Nuala had been on her way to the tavern. She'd passed a group of Roman soldiers that were clearly off duty and she could tell from where she was that they had been drinking, so it didn't surprise her when they hurled insults in her direction.

"There's the little Woad bitch!"

Nuala tried to ignore the man, but found it hard as he continued.

"What's she doing here? The heathen shouldn't be inside the Fort-"

"It's not her place-"

"You don't belong here!"

_Calm yourself_, Nuala thought, anger rising in her all too quickly. _How dare they say that _I _don't belong here? This is _my _country; I was _born_ here! Roman bastards!_ She wanted to yell at them; she _wanted_ to go over to where they were sat and beat the shit out of the inflated Roman arseholes.

But Nuala had to remind herself of what orders Arthur had given the Romans should she step out of line. And though she also remembered telling Cass that she wouldn't hold her tongue for any Roman, Nuala did it anyway.

And she walked right past them, ignoring their words as they grew worse and worse. Tuning them out. Thankfully, she soon found herself at the tavern. Seated at the bar, Nuala was grateful for the raucous noise that blocked out everything that anyone might be saying about her.

Nuala couldn't help but think about running then. She didn't doubt that she _could_ escape the Fort- without the Knights here, the place was nowhere near as defensible or strong. The Romans didn't have eyes and ears like Tristan to notice her leaving.

No, the problem _wasn't_ leaving right now; the problem was where to go once she _did _leave. _Isn't that partly why I ended up here in the first place? _Nuala thought, frustrated.

But before she could think any further on the situation, she noticed that Vanora was standing in front of her, one hand gently drumming on the bar top. Blinking, Nuala looked to the woman, who, briefly, breathed loudly out through her nose.

"You're looking a bit miserable," Vanora noted.

Nuala shrugged. _Does it really matter how I look?_

"Come here," Vanora said, wrapping her fingers around Nuala's wrist.

The Woad woman gave her a quizzical look that forced Vanora to explain at least a little.

"There's someone here that I think you should meet."

And with that, Nuala found herself pulled along through the overly crowded tavern behind the red-headed woman. Eventually though, Vanora came to a stop after navigating them to a table that a small group of men, none of them Roman, sat at.

The men looked up, all of them echoing choruses of, "Vanora!", but the barmaid merely rolled her eyes and turned to the man closest to her. The fair-haired haired young man looked up at the two women, hazel eyes searching their faces curiously.

"Aldwyn," she said, causing the man to smile.

He nodded too, in response to her nomination of him.

"This is Nuala-" Vanora started, gesturing to the woman at her side.

"-Oh, so this is the infamous Woad woman that Cass convinced the Knights to spare?"

Nuala's eyebrow rose at the comment, while Vanora merely nodded.

"Yes, yes, the very one."

"And what can I do for you ladies?"

"_Well_, I was just thinking, since you're quite familiar with having... _issues_ with the Knights, that you might talk with her?"

"About what? How I won them over with my dazzling charm?"

Vanora snorted, shaking her head at the man before turning her back on the Woad woman and disappearing into the crowd again.

"Take a seat," Aldwyn said, using his foot to push an empty seat beside him out from under the table.

She didn't know what else to do so Nuala just sat, if a little bemusedly.

"So you're having problems with the Knights too then?" he enquired.

The woman nodded slightly and answered, "You _could_ say 'problems'; or you could say that they'd rather me be dead."

Aldwyn chuckled and grinned at Nuala.

"I know how you feel."

"You do?" she asked, blinking in surprise.

"Actually, yes," he replied, taking a sip of his drink.

It didn't take Aldwyn long before he launched into the story of his history with the Knights. And it wasn't long before he explained to Nuala what it was like to be on the other side of the Knights' opinions. A side that she was _well_ aware of. It seemed that both of them knew how it felt to be distrusted by the Knights. Their conversation lasted for hours, until Vanora interrupted finally them.

"So I see that you two are getting along then?" she said, smiling at the two.

"It's nice to meet someone not so hostile for once. Apart from you, Cass and Dagonet, Aldwyn's the first person not to treat me like an outcast," Nuala answered, as she tilted her head to the side slightly, causing her braid to slip from her shoulder.

"I'll drink to that," Aldwyn put in, lifting his tankard and taking a long drink from it.

"The friendly, non-hostile bit, I mean."

Some of the liquid inside his tankard, split as he set it down clumsily on the table. Both women barely stifled their giggles as he stared hard at the spilt alcohol for a _little_ too long.

"I think you might just have had enough to drink Aldwyn," Vanora observed.

"Perhaps it's time you went home?"

"What? No. Just talking with Nuala here; don't need to go home yet," he replied, grinning.

"You know, I think it's about time I went to bed too," Nuala said, standing from the table that had gradually emptied.

"It was nice talking to you, Aldwyn," she smiled.

"Yeah, you too. Nice talking..."

Nuala smiled to Vanora, rolling her eyes at the man she'd spent watching drink for the last few hours. Bidding the two goodnight, Nuala walked away from their table, leaving Vanora to somehow convince Aldwyn that he should go home and get to bed.

The Woad woman walked back to her room quickly, enlightened by her long conversation with Aldwyn. True, the only way that he had managed to convince the Knights to trust him was by saving Cass' life; but Aldwyn had proved that it _was_ possible to change the minds of the Knights. That just left Nuala wondering if it would somehow be possible for _her_ to do the same.

The question that nagged at her most, however, was that if she even _wanted_ to change their opinions of her...

**Author's Note: Okay, I know, short chapter, long wait. All I can say is that I'm sorry and that I've been really busy with both Uni and work. :/ I've got some of the next chapter written already- but, knowing me, that probably only means that it'll take me twice as long to finish it. ¬¬ That being said, I wrote this whole chapter at work today on a huge piece of till roll. :P**

**Anywayyyyy, hope you enjoyed it and will let me know what you think! :)**

**Oh, and (shameless plugging, you are forewarned), I wrote a oneshot about Tristan called '**_**As He Prefers It'**_** if anyone's interested in reading it. :) I got away with writing that one by messing around with a technique I'm studying in my prose class called metafiction- 'cus **_**technically**_**, by trying out new techniques in that oneshot, I was really doing Uni work... Well, that's how I justified it in my mind anyway... :P**

**Happy Holidays by the way, in case I don't post before the new year (and let's face it, it's me, so it's likely that I won't...)!**

**Kit xx**


	71. Myths and Legends

Apparently, what Cass _really_ needed was a nice, hot bath and a hell of a lot of mothering. Or that was what Vanora had said anyway; and Cass didn't dare to disagree with the woman- not that Vanora would have had any of it even if she did try.

"Now, I want you to take things easy for a while-"

"_You_ can talk! _You _should be the one resting. How many months are you now?" Cass replied, trying to divert the older woman's attentions from her and onto her pregnancy.

Rolling her eyes at Cass, Vanora answered, "Honestly Cass, I've still got a couple of months to go; and besides, I've worked up until the other ten were ready- no reason not to this time."

But before Cass could respond, Vanora was already cutting her off.

"Anyway, right now we're talking about you, Cass; and _you're_ the one that needs to relax for the time being."

Cass frowned and, in an effort to appease the woman who was acting as her mother would, answered, "Alright, _alright_, I'll take it easy."

Under her breath, she mumbled, "I'm pretty sure that all I have is a cold right now though..."

Hearing her whispered words, Vanora frowned.

"Hmm," she said disapprovingly, before shaking her head at Cass.

Vanora reminded her once more that she needed to rest before turning to leave Cass alone in her and Tristan's room. Cass gave a small smile at the door Vanora had just exited through; the way the red-haired woman had been mothering her couldn't help but make her smile. It was so... _Vanora_.

Lying back in her bed, Cass stared up at the ceiling, still smiling a little as she thought about what had happened when she and the others had returned to the Fort. The Romans had reported back to Arthur that Nuala had been no trouble- save for being a waste of the energy they used in watching her.

Vanora and her brood had been at the gates of the small courtyard within minutes of them arriving back. And it had only taken her a moment after checking on Bors to take in Cass' slightly sickly appearance and drag the younger woman away to be interrogated and doctored. So Cass didn't know how Nuala had behaved while Cass and the Knights had been away.

She found out later though, after speaking with Vanora, that Nuala hadn't been a problem. And Cass took that as encouraging. Even Galahad had to admit that Nuala behaving as they had told her to while they were gone had been a strange surprise. After all, he had been half expecting Nuala to at least have attempted an escape.

But she hadn't. And that prompted a change of thought for Arthur and the Knights. Though some of them assumed that Nuala hadn't run because of the threat Arthur made to her before they'd left; some of them thought that perhaps Nuala had accepted that the Fort was where she must stay from now on, or so Cass had been told by Vanora. It wasn't much, but it was a start, Cass couldn't help but think.

And Vanora had later mentioned that she'd introduced Nuala to Aldwyn. That was... _interesting_. But, more surprising, was that the two had got on so well. It was funny really, Cass thought, that two people that most of the Knights had taken a dislike to had found common ground.

The door opening brought Cass' attention from her thoughts, and she turned her head to see who had entered the room though she already knew full well that it was Tristan. The dark Knight stood in the doorway, saying nothing until Cass smiled at him.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"I'm fine. It's just a cold. The only reason I've stayed in bed all day is because Vanora would have nagged me to death if I'd have tried anything else," Cass answered, smiling ruefully.

The glint catching his eyes, Tristan did not smile, but the edge vanished from his voice as he asked her if she wanted to go to the tavern for dinner, or if she'd rather he bring food to their room.

"Dare we risk Vanora's wrath?" Cass enquired.

Her question was obviously rhetorical as she immediately sat up and pushed herself out of bed. Standing, she quickly dressed and within minutes was at Tristan's side. One of his brows rose as he looked at the woman standing in front of him.

"She's going to kill me," Tristan whispered, amusedly.

"She could _try_," Cass whispered, rolling her eyes as she spoke.

Tristan wrapped an arm around her shoulders before they left together; but Cass didn't fail to notice as he brought his own cloak about her, on top of her own, as he rested his hand on her shoulder. Cass would have rolled her eyes at the gesture if it wasn't so sweet; so protective.

And, truth be told, Cass was soon glad that Tristan had his arm, and his cloak, around her. The wind outside was more fierce than it had been before and Cass quickly understood why Vanora had insisted that she stay inside. Still, she was happy to be outside after being stuck in that room all day.

It didn't take the two of them long to find their way to the tavern, even in the wind that seemed to be pushing them back a step with every two that they took; or so it would seem for the amount of time that it took them to actually arrive at the corner table.

The other Knights were already there when the two took their seats and spoke their greetings quickly. _Clearly, no one's that drunk yet_ _then_, Cass thought. _Though, admittedly, not for lack of trying._

"You're feeling better then?" Gawain asked, the question directed at Cass.

She nodded, smiling at the Knight. A smile that soon faded as she noticed Vanora making her way over to their table, a less-than-happy expression on her face. _Uh-oh,_ Cass thought.

"I thought I told you to stay inside and relax?" the flame-haired woman asked as she stopped beside the table.

"Well, yes, but-" Cass started.

"The girl's got to eat, Vanora," Lancelot put in, winking at Cass.

Vanora scowled at the curly-haired Knight, but before she could reply, Cass interrupted.

"Honestly, Vanora, I feel fine. I was just hungry, so... I promise I won't move from here except to go back later."

Sighing, and shooting Cass a disapproving look, Vanora eventually replied, "Hm, well. You had better keep that promise."

And if Cass and the Knights had been listening carefully, they would have heard Vanora muttering to herself as she walked away about how Cass was becoming "as bad as Bors."

The Knights laughed aloud; all apart from Bors, who merely rose his eyebrows and shook his head after his lover. Though he would never admit it, Vanora's mutterings were quite truthful.

The dinner that they all were soon eating, had only one interruption; and that came in the form of Nuala entering the tavern. But instead of there being any sort of issue, as might have been expected, the Knights merely nodded in her direction as she went to sit at the bar.

Cass blinked, surprised at the gesture- an expression that it seemed Nuala shared with her. But neither they or the Knights said a word about it. Cass was inwardly smiling though. At least it meant something had changed.

Later in the night, the Knights had drank a considerable amount more- Cass, of course, having abstained because she knew that alcohol and illness should _not_ be mixed. And with the aid of said drink, it was Lancelot who remembered the promise that Cass had made to them earlier that day.

"Are you intending to explain what that laughing fit you had earlier was about, or not, Now that you are, in fact, back from wherever Vanora whisked you away to?" Lancelot asked, with a sideways smirk that only he could justifiably wear.

With a small smile, Cass recalled exactly why she had burst into laughter. Lancelot had dubbed her the Lady of the Lake without knowing the myth that had developed long before Cass' time. The only problem she had now was having to explain that without revealing too much.

"You called me the Lady of the Lake," she started.

"And?" Bors put in, interested in hearing Cass' response, but clearly not quite patient enough to let her finish her sentence.

"Well, you see, in my- _at_ _home_, we have stories about everything here- some that have even become myths-"

Cass found herself once again interrupted as Gawain said, "Wait a second, did you say _everything_?"

Cass nodded.

"As in, including us?" he continued, curiously.

With a grin, she nodded again.

Swiftly turning to Lancelot, she added, "Don't say I never warned you about your womanising."

The blank look on the overly-flirtatious Knight's face had the whole table roaring with laughter; even Tristan couldn't hold back a chuckle at his brother's expression.

When the laughter had subsided, Lancelot shrugged and, with a wink, replied, "Well, it just goes to show how memorable I am."

Cass snorted as the table lapsed into roaring laughter once more. Smiling, Cass couldn't help but revel in the moment. These were the nights she liked to remember. These nights when she and the Knights were smiling; joking even.

"So, _anyway_," Cass began, eventually trying to restart her story.

"There's this one myth about the Lady of the Lake- well, there are a couple of versions, but mostly, they agree that she reaches out from the depths of the lake to give Arthur Excalibur... And since that's, kind of, what happened- and that's the name that you just so happened to have called _me_, it almost seems like-"

"You're the Lady of the Lake," Tristan finished for her.

Turning her head to look at him, she replied, "_Exactly_."

"Doesn't that mean that you've always supposed to have been here then?" Galahad asked.

Cass shrugged her shoulders and answered, "Who knows... Maybe it's supposed to be this way; or maybe it was supposed to be someone else- after all, we know how good I am at changing events that are supposed to happen."

Arthur's eyebrows rose at her comment, causing her to add, "Well, you _don't_ know... And it's better that way... Never mind."

Of course, the Knights did not quite agree, and Cass found herself at the centre of a conversation which had most of the Knights querying her on their own legends. Sighing Cass vowed to keep her mouth firmly shut in case any of their myths turned out to be as true as hers may have become.

There was actually only one myth that she guessed would _not_ come true- or at least she hoped- but she would never speak the story of Tristan and Isolde. If that myth became reality... Cass didn't really know what she would do. Frowning to herself, Cass reminded herself of two very good reasons why that would not become reality. Firstly, there was Cass herself.

And secondly, that myth meant that Tristan would die. _Why is it that _every _myth or legend ends with him dying?_ Cass thought angrily. But, catching the strange expression on her face, Tristan put his hand against her cheek, turning her head his way.

As she looked up at him, Cass couldn't help but think one last thing. That what the myths said didn't matter. Cass wouldn't let Tristan die this time. Not when she was here to stop it from happening.

**Author's Note: Merry Christmassss! Well, technically it's Boxing Day (which is coincidentally my dad's birthday), but I wrote this with intention of posting it on Christmas Day, I just didn't get the chance.**

**Hope you guys had a nice day yesterday; I did. :) Had the family over. :D And had a moment where I realised that I was nineteen because instead of Santa and reindeers, Christmas conversations now appear to involve my nan talking about condoms and my aunt discussing pvc, leather and handcuffs... Merry Christmas...**

**Yeah, I know, my family's weird. :L**

**So anyway, I felt bad about leaving you guys for sooooo long without an update that featured Cass and the Knights; so I tried to update as soon as I could. :)**

**Hope you like it! :)**

**Kit xx**


	72. Surprisingly Sickening

In the few weeks following the Knights' return to the Fort, Dagonet and Nuala had spent more time together than the others would have liked; though, of course, they held their tongues about any such thoughts. Cass merely sat back and watched with a silent and slightly smug smile on her face.

None of them thought to question the relationship that all could obviously see growing between the Knight and the Woad; they may not have been particularly fond of it, but they did not question it. There was just something between the two that none of the others _quite _understood.

Then again, none of the others really understood what had brought Tristan and Cass together either- all they knew was that their brother had been far happier for it. Dagonet was never really one to be articulate about things such as these- just as Tristan was not. So that he was acting in this manner had confused the other Knights into trying to look past their objections to Nuala.

Whatever it was that was going on, that had Nuala and Dagonet spending and enjoying each others' company though, no one interfered with it. Not when they ate together, increasingly; nor when they spent hours together in the infirmary.

Not even when they decided to take a walk together, just the two of them. It wasn't like the other Knights were watching around to notice such an act as they were out training early in the morning, not to return until after the two had set off on their walk, and Cass had gone out scouting with Tristan.

"Thank you for bringing me out here," Nuala started as they walked away from the Fort.

"I like being outside. I just didn't think that coming out here alone would have made things any better between me and the others," she admitted quietly.

Dagonet looked at her from her right, assessing the expression that had turned her features somewhat sadder. It almost hurt him to admit that she looked so pessimistic at the thought of disturbing things between her and his brothers. She was, of course, right to do so, he knew.

"Yes, well... You were probably wise to wait," Dagonet replied eventually, knowing that, had she not waited, the other Knights would have been far from happy.

She nodded, saying nothing else on the matter for a while. They continued walking, stepping further and further away from the Fort in silence. But as they neared the line of trees at the edge of the large grassy expanse that they walked through, Nuala frowned and returned to their earlier conversation.

"I wouldn't have tried to run though... I wish that they'd understand that."

Trying to explain the reasoning behind the Knights' reactions to her, Dagonet answered, "Sometimes it takes my brothers a long time to come around to an idea."

She looked at him blankly, waiting for him to explain further.

"We've been fighting your people for so long; you must understand why it is so hard for them to accept you. All they know are the Woads that have tried to kill them, and that have killed many of our brothers."

She scowled at that last comment.

"So they still think that I'm either going to try to run or kill them then? Great..." Nuala said, an edge of bitterness to her tone.

"That's not what I meant," Dagonet replied gently.

"Well, it's not exactly like they've _tried_ to get to know me. If they weren't being so prejudiced then they might realise that I _don't_ want to kill you all."

Dagonet touched her arm gently, stopping her words and her feet with a simple gesture. She paused, looking at him and waiting for him to speak.

"I know... But, like I said, it sometimes takes a long time for my brothers to come around to an idea."

She sighed.

"Well, I hope they start 'coming around' soon," she muttered under her breath, as they started walking again.

They continued to walk in silence for a time, all the while, Dagonet's hand remaining on her arm.

"I'm glad that you chose to stay," Dagonet said, his voice soft as he offered her a small smile.

"You know, _regardless_ of what we were just discussing, I am too," Nuala replied eventually, the corners of her lips twitching upward.

"It's strange though, because, if you could have asked me if I'd _ever_ thought that I would be here, with you- like this; then I'd have said that you were insane for even thinking it."

"Yet here we are," Dagonet put in with a small smile.

She returned the gesture, moving closer to him to rest her head on his shoulder as they walked. If anyone had been observing them, then they would have seen how comfortable the two looked, simply walking with each other. And if any of the Knights had been observing them, then they would have had all the more reason to reconsider their opinions of the Woad woman for the sake of their brother.

The day was pleasant enough. The wind did not carry, so, as the sun shone, it was almost warm for a still wintery British day. It was still quite early enough for the birds to be chirping loudly behind the line of trees. And Dagonet and Nuala were simply enjoying it, as they walked together in a comfortable silence that was reminiscent of Tristan and Cass'.

That was, until one bird's whistle had Nuala's eyes widen. It wasn't that she recognised the bird that made the sound, which she would have; but it was that the sound she'd heard was one that she distinctly recalled as something _other_ than a bird call. Dagonet did not notice the change in her for a while, as Nuala put considerable effort into not making it obvious that she'd noticed anything out of the ordinary.

"I think... I think that we should go back to the Fort now..." she said after counting to a seemingly-age-long ten in her head.

Dagonet paused and turned to her. There was something unusual in her green eyes that flashed between him and the line of trees behind him.

"I'd _really_ like to go back now," Nuala entreated him, pulling on his arm slightly.

Her actions, and the insistence in her tone, was something that Dagonet could easily mark as unusual. So he followed her, allowing her to pull him back toward the Fort.

"Is there any reason we are in such a rush?" he asked quietly, when they were half way back to the Fort.

But Nuala refused to answer Dagonet right then; she wouldn't tell him why she was hurrying them so readily back to the Fort after telling him how glad she was to be out of there. She merely shook her head in reply. It wasn't until the two of them were back within the safety of the Fort's strong walls that Nuala would even acknowledge another question from the tall Knight.

"Will you tell me what's going on?" he asked, when she finally stopped tugging him along, further into the Fort.

Just as Nuala opened her mouth to respond, she was silenced by the opening of the huge gates and the two familiar figures on horseback that quickly rode in.

"Woads," Tristan said, catching his breath as he spoke.

He and Cass had obviously ridden hard to relay this announcement to the Fort.

"Where?" Dagonet asked, frowning.

"In the trees," Cass panted, she, too, trying to get her breath back.

"I don't think they've realised that we know yet."

"We should hurry, it won't be long before they do," Tristan said, finishing for her.

With that, Tristan and Cass rode off in separate directions to warn the rest of the Fort of the impending danger. As soon as they were gone, Dagonet turned back to Nuala, the frown still on his face.

"You knew?" he asked calmly.

"I was going to tell you- it was the whistle- I just- if I'd have said anything while we were out there then they would have killed us," she replied defensively, her voice quite strained.

After a short moment, Dagonet gave her a simple nod, before moving away from her. Nuala could only watch as the tall Knight returned quickly to his room to collect his weapons. To ready himself for a fight against her people.

As she stood there, Nuala couldn't help but feel that she didn't want him to go out there; to fight. She didn't want him to kill her people; but the alternative didn't bear thinking about. In fact, to her surprise, it _hurt_ her to think about what would happen should Dagonet not be able to kill someone he was fighting.

Nuala swallowed the lump growing in her throat as she stared at the corner that Dagonet had disappeared behind. Whichever way the situation went now; Nuala knew that she was going to lose, and it was going to hurt. Either her people would die... Or Dagonet would...

She blinked, trying to register that thought properly. It made her feel sick that she was having to choose between her people and her life at the Fort. Though she didn't care for the Romans in any way, and perhaps she didn't care so much for most of the Knights either, Nuala did care about some of those who would soon be fighting her people.

And she did care about Dagonet. He'd become her best friend since he'd taken the time to know her and to understand her. He'd never once pushed her to reveal something about herself that she hadn't wanted to; and she'd never once felt uncomfortable in his presence.

But Nuala couldn't help but wonder if she felt something a little more for the tall Knight than she'd like to admit to herself- or to anyone else for that matter. Questioning her thoughts for a moment, Nuala doubted herself. _I'm not..._ No, she thought, shaking her head suddenly. She wasn't _falling_ for one of the Sarmatian Knights, was she? She couldn't be... _could_ she?

It wasn't long before she heard the tell-tale hoof beats of the Knights, riding their way towards the gates and out to where they knew the ambush awaited. Nuala caught Dagonet's eye as he rode past her and she couldn't help but notice the quiet determination set on his face.

As the Knights left the Fort behind to ride out, and the Romans shuffled around her in chaos, trying desperately to organise themselves into some sort of order so that they might defend their Fort. The Knights were clearly a far superior force in this sense, Nuala couldn't help but think as she manoeuvred her way through the throng of Romans until she stood atop of the wall, looking out at where the Knights now were.

If any of the Romans minded her presence, they said nothing of it. They were too busy running around and trying to get themselves into a formation, which they did successfully after a matter of minutes. Then there was only silence. Silence and waiting; until the Woads decided to make their attack.

And when they did, Nuala could only watch as her people tried to attack the Fort that the people around her were so dutifully trying to defend. Seeing the size of Woad ambush, Nuala was relatively sure that she could guess who would win. Her people surely hadn't thought it a good idea to attack the Fort- _Arthur's_ Fort, no less- with so few?

But they _had_ done it anyway. And Nuala couldn't help but watch as the two forces, the Knights and her people, collided with a clash of steel and blood. She could hear the sounds even from where she stood on the Wall; it was horrible- as if she was right there among them.

The worst part of it though, was how torn she felt watching them fight. As much as she didn't want her people to die, the thought of Dagonet, or Cass, being killed tore at her.

She felt physically sick as she watched the fight. Every time Dagonet dodged or blocked a blow that could have easily been the end of him, Nuala's stomach jumped; just as it did when the tall Knight reciprocated and finished his opponent instead.

It was sick. It was _wrong_. She shouldn't have to feel this way, she knew. _I never should have felt this way in the first place. I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have come here_, she thought. Yet Nuala couldn't take her eyes and thoughts away from the fight and the 'what ifs' that replayed through her mind.

Soon enough it was over though. Her people, the small amount of them that had decided taking on the Knights' Fort would be a good plan anyway, were dead- the stragglers finished off by Roman archers. It would be hard to say that the Romans had really done anything though; it was mostly the Knights. And Nuala couldn't decide if that was worse or not... At least she could hate the Romans.

It was clear to Nuala then, that she had a lot of thinking to do and she had a very small amount of time to do it in. She just had to hope that she came to the right decision at the end of it.

* * *

**Author's Note: First post of the new year! Sorry it took me so long, I've had really bad writer's block on this chapter and it just came to me this morning, so voila! :P Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and will let me know what you think! :)**

**Kit xx**


	73. Let It Go

Nuala met Dagonet at the gate, her eyes squinted with pain as she stared at him. For his part, Dagonet had come out of the fight largely unharmed, save for a small cut on his cheek that was bleeding slightly and the blood that was not his that had splattered on his clothing.

He dismounted quickly, handing his horse's reigns to someone else and turning to Nuala. She couldn't stop herself from gasping at the blood on him- both what was his and what was not. And she could not stop herself from frowning in concern.

"Are you-?"

"I'm fine," he replied, interrupting her with a nod.

"You're bleeding," Nuala observed, her frown deepening.

As she spoke, her hand reached out to his cheek just beside the cut, her fingers lightly touching his cheek. His own hand came up to his cheek to brush hers away.

"It's not a deep cut," Dagonet answered, trying to reassure her.

"I know, I can see. That's... that's good," she replied quietly.

Noticing that her frown did not lessen as she looked away from him, avoiding his eyes, Dagonet rested a hand on her arm that pulled her attention back to him. When she met his eyes, he could instantly tell that something was wrong.

"What is it?" he asked, his own frown forming.

Nuala said nothing for a moment, however, she soon let out a long sigh.

"Dagonet, listen..."

He did, and intently so.

"I like you, Dagonet... I like you _a lot_; but... I cannot watch you kill my people as much as I cannot watch them try to kill you."

The tall Knight was silent for a second, simply staring at her for a moment as she struggled to continue. He could see Nuala grasping for words that wouldn't seem to come out right.

"I... I can't stay here and watch that... Just, every time... I'd be expecting..."

Dagonet stopped her with a squeeze on her arm as he realised what she was trying to say.

"I _can't_, Dagonet."

With a frown, he nodded once, his expression full of regret. The look on Nuala's face mimicked Dagonet's as she stared at him, conflicted. In one moment she was staring at him with that pained expression, as if the decision was taking a long time to sink in. And her frown didn't fade as she leant forward quickly and kissed him.

After some time, she pulled away from the somewhat surprised Knight. Then Nuala just stared at him seriously, hoping that he wouldn't notice the tears welling in her eyes. She was stronger than this, wasn't she?

"Go," was all that Dagonet said.

"Thank you," Nuala whispered, tilting her head to the side slightly.

And then she ran. She knew exactly where she was going, where she needed to go, and it was in the exact opposite direction to Dagonet. Nuala didn't stop running until the huge gates to the North blocked her way. She looked up at the guards on duty and wondered what it would take for her to get them to open the gates. Even now, they were looking at her suspiciously, and that was before she had asked them to let her pass.

But her problem was solved as she noticed the guards look away from her, to someone behind her. And she watched them nod, the gates opening soon after. As the doors began to creak away from their solid position, Nuala turned her head to see what had changed their minds. In her heart, she already knew what, or rather who, it was though.

_Dagonet_. He had followed her to the other side of the Fort, just to make sure she could leave. He truly was letting her go, even if it wasn't really what he wanted. He was setting her free; and, at that moment, she couldn't have loved him more for it. Nuala met his eyes and saw the sadness in his expression, knowing that he could probably read the same emotion in hers.

But she couldn't help but stare at him. She would have stayed for him, she would have were it not for the hatred between the Knights, the Romans and her people. Nuala knew that their fight would tear her apart, one way or another. Her only choice was to get as far away from the fight as possible.

"_Thank you_," she mouthed silently to him before disappearing through the gates.

Cass had seen the whole thing, simply because she had been looking . She watched as the Woad woman that she had become friends with kissed the tall Knight; and then, as she had turned and run from Dagonet. And she watched his face as he slowly followed after Nuala. Cass dismounted from Kaydin and trailed after the pair.

She was surprised to see Dagonet wave the guards to open the gates that led North. And when the gates opened, Nuala was gone. Dagonet didn't even try to stop her, he merely walked silently up to the wall looking out over Nuala's path to the North.

Cass followed him, coming to a stop at his side as he looked out of the plain in front of them. Cass couldn't even spot where Nuala had disappeared to. She was gone; and it was as if she had never been present. The only difference was that the quiet Knight at Cass' side was now silent for a different reason altogether.

"Dagonet?" Cass ventured after a while.

He did not reply; so she tried again.

"Dagonet, what-"

This time Dagonet interrupted her with, "She made her choice. And she had her reasons."

Cass stared at him, and she knew that there was so much more to what had happened than what he had revealed. But Cass also knew that now was not the right time to talk about it. So instead of talking. Cass just wrapped her arms around the tall Knight. But he barely seemed to even notice. He just kept staring out to where Nuala was last.

"Would you like me to leave?" Cass asked after a while of silence.

She looked up in time to see him nod once. At that, Cass took a step back, letting her arms drop from around the quiet Knight. She couldn't help but stare at him as he stared ahead, a wave of sadness falling over her._ Poor Dagonet_, she thought.

"I'll... I'll see you at dinner, right?"

He didn't acknowledge her question, and Cass didn't push the matter. But she didn't see him in the tavern for dinner. She saw every other Knight, and even Arthur; but not Dagonet. Also, as it turned out, none of the others knew about what had happened, and it was up to Cass to explain.

"Where's Dag?" Bors asked, causing Cass to look up from her plate.

"Probably with the Woad," Galahad replied.

Though when he caught the look on Cass' face, he corrected himself.

"I mean, Nuala."

"You don't know?" questioned Cass, setting her fork down on her plate.

The Knights looked up at her expectantly, if slightly confused. Her eyes flickered between them and she couldn't repress a sigh. _This is not going to be easy_, she thought.

Deciding not to tell them the _entire_ story- that was really none of their business- Cass said, "He let her go."

"He _what?_" Lancelot virtually spat, choking a little on his drink.

"He let her go," she repeated.

"Where?" Arthur asked.

"North."

"Why on earth would he do that?" Gawain enquired.

To that, Cass merely shrugged.

"That's not really the important thing here-"

"Not really the important thing?" Lancelot interrupted incredulously.

"It'll be important when a whole legion of Woads come at our gates with coincidentally precise knowledge about our defences."

Cass scowled.

"She wouldn't do that?"

"How do you know?" Galahad put in.

"Because..." Cass started, faltering slightly.

"Because I actually spent the time getting to know her instead of condemning her. Have a little faith."

"Faith doesn't stop an attack," Gawain said matter-of-factly.

"Look, I know she wouldn't tell them about the Fort- she wouldn't risk anything happening to Dagonet."

"Hasn't she proven that she doesn't care about him by leaving?" Lancelot sneered.

"You didn't see the kiss she gave him before he let her go. You don't kiss someone like that if you don't care," Cass replied vehemently.

"Well, _Lancelot_ might," Gawain added with a wink and a small smile.

His attempt to lighten the situation was wasted on Cass, who continued, "But Nuala's not like that- ask Vanora-"

But before she could carry on speaking, she felt a familiar hand placed upon her arm. Cass looked to her side to see Tristan, who had remained mercifully silent throughout the conversation, looking at her.

"Arguing now is not going to do anything," he said, his expression a usual mask.

Cass stared at him blankly for a moment and could tell from one look in his eyes that he was right.

"Let it go," he added in a whisper.

But with her frustration at its peak, she stood up quickly and turned back to the others, replying, "I will _not_ let this go. And maybe instead of worrying about imaginary and improbable attacks, you should worry about your friend, _Dagonet_, and what _he_ might be feeling right now."

And with that, Cass left the tavern before anyone could stop her. It was Tristan that found her some time later. He'd known where she'd gone by following her tracks, but he'd given her an hour to herself. She'd need some time to calm herself down from how worked up she had been.

Cass had gone first to the building that housed their rooms, where, he guessed, she had tried unsuccessfully to get Dagonet to speak to her. After that had failed, Tristan followed Cass' tracks to the stables where he found her brushing her horse's mane.

He walked over to him and she didn't seem to notice; either that or she was stubbornly choosing to ignore him. But, as he placed a hand on her shoulder and she jumped like she'd stood on a nail, he knew it was the former.

He hadn't meant to scare her, and he regretted not saying anything when the brush in her hand rebounded against his forehead. As soon as she realised what had happened, Cass' hand flew up to cover her mouth.

"Oh gods, Tristan! I'm so sorry," she said, apologising emphatically.

"At least we know your reflexes are good," Tristan replied, his voice almost toneless.

At that, Cass couldn't help but laugh, the tension easing somewhat from her features. She couldn't quite believe that she, even accidentally, had hit Tristan with a brush. _How ridiculous_, she thought.

"Did you try to speak to Dagonet?" he asked.

She nodded, a frown quickly replacing her laughter.

"He wouldn't speak to me."

Brushing back a curl that had fallen in front of Cass' face, Tristan replied, "Did you expect him to?"

Cass shrugged.

"I hoped he would... He looked so sad..."

She lapsed into silence again, wishing that she had been able to get Dagonet to speak to her. She wanted so much to help.

"You can't fix everything, Cass."

She looked down for a second and sighed, "I know."

With a small smile, she added, "I'm no Vanora."

The corner of Tristan's lips curled upward too and he wove an arm around Cass's waist, pulling her closer to him.

"You're no Vanora," he repeated.

"But you are perfect... Stop trying to solve everyone else's problems."

* * *

**Author's Note: Firstly, SO sorry it took me so long to update, the reason is a mixture of being busy at Uni, and knowing what was going to happen in this chapter for a loooooong time and when it came down to it, not being able to write it. :/**

**Anyway, I hope you liked it and will let me know what you think! :)**

**Kit xx **


	74. Fine

Cass leaned back against the headboard of her and Tristan's bed. She couldn't help but think about Dagonet and the expression he'd been wearing since Nuala left. She couldn't tell how much he was hurting, but there was seemingly nothing that she or the others could do to about it.

It had been days since he had let Nuala go, and Dagonet had barely spoken a word to anyone since. The only person that Cass knew he had definitely spoken to was Arthur. And even that was reluctantly done. Just enough conversation to let Arthur know that he was fine and that was it. He just did _not_ want to talk about it.

Cass had told Tristan to go scouting without her that morning. With how distracted she was, she knew that she'd be more of a hindrance than a help. Her mind was too preoccupied with what had happened... She wanted to help Dagonet so much, but she knew that her trying would do nothing.

She was altogether too good at getting herself into an argument, and altogether to apt at meddling. Cass wondered if she'd be able to stop herself; and knew that she had to regardless of whether she thought she could or not. She knew that it wasn't right for her to continuously be creating arguments like that.

The Knights and Cass went out to train later that day, but again, Dagonet absented himself. The fact that he was keeping to himself was frustrating, but also worrying. Cass wanted to try and get him to speak again, but she knew he wouldn't. She knew it was pointless. And she knew that she needed to stop interfering.

That night, at the tavern, Dagonet did not join the others at their corner table. He merely nodded to them as he passed, heading straight for the bar, where he ate alone. The others frowned after their friend and how unlike him it was to act in such a way. They had expected it though, since he had chosen to remain alone after Nuala left.

Cass tried to keep herself from meddling, and instead busied herself with helping Vanora out. In her opinion, Vanora shouldn't have been working at all- in fact, she wasn't even quite sure _how _Vanora was still working. Of course, Cass wasn't going to try the 'you're too pregnant, go sit down' route again with Vanora, for risk of being yelled at and told to sit down herself because Vanora was, "_FINE_".

As Cass went over to the corner table to collect the Knights' now empty plates, she couldn't help but notice that the Knights were stealing glances at their brother. Cass had been doing the same all night.

"Best to leave him alone," Bors said, in a voice that was quiet for him.

Cass doubted that that was the best solution, but she didn't interfere. She had never been in that situation, and she'd never seen Dagonet act like that either. The others had been with him for almost fifteen years now so Cass had to admit that they probably understood what he was going through better than she did.

She still watched him as she could tell the others did. And because of this observation, she noticed the couple of other men that stood beside the bar near Dagonet. They were talking rather loudly, and becoming somewhat raucous, so Vanora banned Cass from going near them, with an _I can handle them, I'm used to it_- _Don't you dare tell me I'm too pregnant._

Dagonet just sat next to the group in silence, seemingly taking no notice of them. But as Cass was on her way back to the bar, carrying a stack of dirty plates and cups, she became well aware that he _was_ paying attention to the men. She didn't really hear what had been said, but she _did_ distinctly hear the words 'Woad woman'.

Of course, what happened next took place so quickly, she didn't even have time to put down the things she was carrying. Dagonet stood, his fist already curled, and punched the man that had spoken. Whatever he had said, it clearly hadn't been polite. There would be no way _Dagonet_ would react like that without cause.

The man fell backward into another man, who stumbled into Cass, causing her to drop all the plates and cups she held. _Crap, _she thought as several of them shattered at her feet. Broken shards of pottery were the least of her problems then though as even the Knights were quick to notice, getting to their feet and gathering beside their brother.

It looked like a fight was brewing and Cass didn't want to see the outcome of it. Nothing happened though. The man who Dagonet had punched, seemed to reconsider the thought of a fight after the Knights had stepped beside their brother. He knew that he'd overstepped his mark in what he'd said about Nuala in front of Dagonet; and with the backing of his fellow Knights, none of the other men wanted to try and make Dagonet apologise for his actions either.

The men quickly dispersed, leaving the tavern before anything else could happen. After letting out a long, deep breath, Dagonet, too, left the tavern, but departed in the opposite direction to the men.

"Well, that's enough of that," Bors yelled to the tavern's patrons.

"Nothing more interesting to see here, so get your noses back in your own business."

The people in the tavern quickly went back to their own conversations, though many of them had now changed to the topic of the usually friendly, quiet Knight's outburst. They spoke quietly though; no one wanted to risk Bors hearing their discussion and having his anger aimed their way.

As the other Knights returned to their table, Tristan went to Cass, who was now knelt on the floor trying to pick up the cups and plates that she'd dropped. He touched her arm gently, until she looked away from the shattered pieces of cups and plates and up at him.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She nodded, still piling the plates and broken cup pieces into her arms.

"Do you think _he'll_ be alright?" she enquired.

Tristan shrugged.

"I don't know. This isn't like Dagonet. We'll have to wait to find out."

She nodded again, standing up with the broken shards in her arms. She threw away the broken pieces and quickly returned to where Tristan was standing, waiting for her.

"Well, I guess I've gone back to being clumsy again," she said as she looked down at a cut on her hand that had started to bleed.

She saw Tristan frown as he noticed it.

"It's nothing; I'll be fine," she tried to reassure him.

But that didn't stop him taking hold of her hand and withdrawing a bandage-like strip of material from his pocket.

As he began to wrap it around the small cut on her palm, Cass asked, "Do I want to know why you had in that in your pocket?"

"Just in case," he replied simply.

"So you knew I'd get all clumsy again soon then?"

He tied a knot in the material, securing it to her hand, and leant forward to place a small kiss on her cheek.

"I guessed."

Cass couldn't help but smile at that, a blush creeping onto her cheeks at how well he seemed to know her.

The smile faded though as she pulled back and said, "I'm still worried about Dagonet..."

"Let him come to terms with it himself, it is the only way he will deal with this."

"I suppose."

Tristan paused for a moment, tilting his head to the side as he looked at her.

"I think you've had enough accidents for tonight, come," he said, taking her non-bandaged hand and trying to lead her away from the bar.

"I can't just leave Vanora to deal with all this," Cass replied, digging her heels into the ground.

But, of course, Vanora chose that moment to walk past and chip in with, "I told you before, I'm _fine._"

And she disappeared again, somehow carrying three plates full of food at once and navigating drunken patrons. Cass frowned after the older woman, still confused at how she could possibly be still doing as much as she was.

"Jeez, I have no idea how she's doing that, she's like Superwoman," she muttered under her breath.

Tristan raised a brow at her.

"Never mind," Cass added, mentally kicking herself for saying that.

Cass went with Tristan though, at both his and Vanora's insistence, and ended up walking the walls of the Fort. The night was cloudless, thankfully, and the moon lit their path, as did the torches the Romans had lit and placed at every couple of paces along the wall.

"It feels like a long time since we've done this," Cass said, looking to her side at Tristan.

He looked back at her through strands of dark hair that had, as usual, fallen in front of his face, and nodded.

"I've missed it," she continued with a small smile.

With his arm already around her waist, Tristan pulled her closer to him as he stopped them in their tracks. She blinked up at him, half-expecting him to kiss her.

"I don't think you should come with us on missions anymore."

Of all the things that he could have said or done, she could _not_ have predicted that. Cass stepped back, freeing herself from Tristan's embrace as she stared at him. The moon's light was shadowing his face, so that she could barely read his expression.

"W-what?"

"I don't think you should-"

"I heard you," she interrupted, frowning.

"Haven't we had this conversation before?"

He said nothing.

"You know why I have to come with you. I'm not letting that happen, Tristan."

"This has nothing to do with that," he said.

"It has _everything_ to do with that. I know it bothers you that I'm there, but I'm not going to let the people I love die when I can prevent it."

"You don't know how much it bothers me that you're there," Tristan responded, his voice quiet but serious.

"What?" she said pausing slightly.

"You see how Dagonet is now, because he lost Nuala? She's still alive. Every time we leave for a mission, there's a chance you might not come back. If you don't have to be in that position, you shouldn't be."

Cass stared at the Knight unblinkingly for a moment, sadness creeping into her expression. She stepped closer to him, lightly placing her hands over his cheeks.

"Tristan, I_ have _to be," she started softly.

"I couldn't live with myself if something happened... And because, well, you wouldn't let me go out there without you there, and I know I'm not, you know, the best at fighting, but... I can't let you risk your life knowing that I could help."

She saw his lip twitch at her argument, but eventually he conceded with a nod. He wasn't happy, but at least he wasn't fighting her anymore. With Tristan, that was all she could hope to ask for in this situation.

* * *

**Author's Note: Well, okay so I got ahead of myself and found time to write this for you guys, even though I know it's kind of short. Hope you guys like it and will let me know what you thought! :)**

**PS. Don't tell my Uni Profs. I'm pretty sure they'll not be impressed, I'm supposed to be writing original stuff right now... *whistles***

**Kit xx**


	75. The Night Brings Surprises

The night brought a surprise. Not a bad one, like an attack at the Fort, but a pleasant one. A happy surprise. And Cass was only slightly disgruntled by it because she didn't find out about it until mid-morning. She and Tristan had gone out scouting early and ended up staying out longer than they usually would have done.

Tristan had found some tracks that he did not recognise and the two had cautiously investigated. They couldn't locate the source however and eventually decided that they would have to settle for informing Arthur of these mysterious tracks. Just in case. On their return to the Fort though, they tried Arthur at his rooms but received no answer.

"He could be in the tavern eating?" Cass suggested.

Tristan nodded. They moved there swiftly, determining that that would most likely be where their commander would be at that time of the morning. Sure enough, they spotted Arthur, sat beside Galahad and Gawain at the corner table of the tavern as soon as they entered.

While Tristan went straight to Arthur to inform him of what they had seen, Cass looked around the tavern, at the bar, to see if Dagonet was there again. He wasn't, which bothered her to no end. She sighed at the thought of the usually so friendly Knight who seemed to be hurting so much.

But only in looking for Dagonet did she notice the other significant absence from the tavern. A missing figure that was usually such a prominent presence there. With a frown creasing her features, Cass walked over to the corner table.

"Have you seen Vanora? She's usually here by now..." she asked the Knights.

Galahad and Gawain just smirked at each other in response to her question.

"What?" she questioned, confused.

Looking boyishly from Gawain to Arthur, Galahad replied, "Vanora had her baby earlier this morning."

Cass blinked.

"She _what?_" she said, louder than was probably necessary.

"Calm down a bit, Cass," Gawain chuckled, mockingly plugging his ear with a finger.

"As _if_ she didn't get someone to come and get me!" Cass said, almost to herself.

"Where is she?" she added, turning back to the Knights.

"Where do you think?" Gawain replied.

And with that, Cass had already started walking away toward Bors and Vanora's house. Tristan just watched her leave as he took his seat, his eyes meeting Gawain's in an extremely unsurprised way. It seemed that the Knights had expected no less of a reaction when Vanora gave birth; the two women did have a strange relationship, after all.

"Women," Galahad put in, shaking his head slightly after Cass.

It didn't take Cass long to make her way to Bors and Vanora's home despite her navigational issues. She knew the way theres. When she arrived, Cass knocked rhythmically on the wooden door until it was opened to her. She was half surprised to see that it was Bors that answered the door, rather than one of their children as usual.

"Cass!" he said, suddenly embracing her in huge bear hug.

Slightly taken aback, Cass ended up returning the hug and patting him on the back until he released her.

"Looks like someone's rather happy," Cass commented with an amused smile.

Bors grinned back at her.

"Guess you heard then?"

"Yeah, I did. Can I come in?"

Bors blinked and then ushered her inside with an arm on her back as he replied, "Oh, 'course you can."

"It's quiet in here," Cass said.

"I sent the other little bastards out, couldn't be havin' them waking up the baby every two seconds," he winked.

Cass smiled at him as he led her through to the room where she'd been allowed to change when she'd first arrived at the Fort so long ago. Again Cass found herself more than a little surprised at what she saw. Vanora, having given birth only a matter of hours ago, was moving about the room, _tidying_, it seemed.

"Aren't you supposed to be resting or something?" Cass asked.

Vanora smiled at the sight of the younger woman and was about to reply when Bors cut her off.

"See? That's what I said," Bors said, nodding.

"Not necessary," Vanora answered.

"Should be sat down, resting," Bors continued as if she had said nothing.

Vanora ignored the comment and merely moved over to him as if to push him out of the room; which is exactly what she then proceeded to do.

"Why don't you go out? Cass can look after me and Eleven while you're gone. Go on."

"But-" Bors tried.

"No buts, or I won't let you back in later."

And with that, Vanora had shooed a grumbling Bors out of the house, closing the door behind him.

"Look after?" Cass asked with a questioning brow.

Vanora rolled her eyes.

"He always does this when I've given birth. Won't leave me alone for days. Too protective," she added, shaking her head slightly.

"Isn't that generally a good thing?" Cass asked.

"I suppose, but when you're on your eleventh child it gets a bit much. It's nice to have a break from him sometimes," she smiled, placing a hand on Cass' arm.

"Glad I could be of service then."

The two women smiled at each other, a short silence stretching between them, before Cass asked, "Vanora, why didn't you send someone to come and get me last night? I-"

"Oh who would I have sent, Cass?" Vanora answered dismissively.

"I don't know, you have ten children."

Vanora rolled her eyes again and replied, "Yes, which means that I am quite experienced in the whole giving birth thing."

Cass opened her mouth to reply, but Vanora interrupted her before she could come up with someone else that she could have found to send for her.

"Do you want to see him?"

At that, Cass smiled, "Of course, I do."

And then she thought aloud, "_Him_? It's a boy?"

Vanora nodded. Momentarily, she walked over to the other side of the room and bent down to reach into a cot beside the bed. She returned with her eleventh child, a reasonably-sized baby boy all bundled up in a brown blanket. The grin on Vanora's face was ear to ear, the kind of grin that only proud mother's can give. And Vanora _was_ a proud mother.

"Aw, he's so cute," Cass beamed.

"Looks just like Bors."

"But I'm sure you can fix that," Cass winked.

Vanora hit the younger woman's arm playfully at her joke.

"Do you want to hold him?"

Cass looked doubtful for a moment and replied, "I don't know, Vanora, you know how clumsy I am- and he's so tiny, I-"

"Nonsense, you're not going to drop a baby. I think you'll be fine."

With that she handed Cass Eleven, showing her how to correctly hold Eleven, supporting his head. Cass was silent for a moment, just staring at the newborn in her arms.

"He's so tiny," Cass repeated, looking at the baby in her arms.

"He'll be as big as the rest of them soon enough," Vanora smiled.

After not too long a time, Cass handed Eleven back to Vanora. She didn't quite trust herself to hold him for too long. She was still pretty certain that she'd go and do something clumsy and drop him.

Eleven, who was barely awake when Vanora had brought him to Cass, had soon drifted off into a quiet slumber and Vanora put him back down to rest while Cass made them some tea- tea that she'd say Vanora well deserved after the day she'd had. The two women sat down together, enjoying the quiet that was so rare in Vanora's home.

"Dagonet came, you know," Vanora mentioned after taking a sip of her tea.

"He did?"

Vanora nodded.

"How is he?" Cass asked, not bothering to try and hide her concern, knowing that Vanora would have seen through her attempt if she had.

"The same," she frowned.

That wasn't good news. Cass had almost been hoping that the arrival of his friend's baby might have cheered him up slightly.

"At least he made the effort to come here though. It's more than he's been doing to talk to anyone," Cass reasoned, trying to push back her worry with a shrug.

"He always did come here the day I gave birth... I always found his and Bors' relationship... I don't know, they've always felt like brothers; Dagonet's always been an uncle to our children. He's always been a part of our family. I feel like I know him better than any of the others- apart from Bors, that is."

"I know what you mean. You only have to see them together to notice it. It's like they really are brothers."

"I hope he gets over this business soon enough," Vanora sighed.

"Me too."

"Nuala was a fool to leave him. She won't find anyone better."

"You're probably right," Cass frowned.

They lapsed into silence for a while, eventually veering to lighter subjects. It hurt to think of how their friend was suffering right now. They had just finished discussing the fact that Bors had probably given up trying to get back into the house and would, most likely, have gone out drinking- or 'celebrating', when Vanora brought something up that Cass had_ not_ been expecting.

"So have you and Tristan thought about having children then?"

Cass half-choked on the drink that she had decided to take a sip of at such an ill-timed moment.

"I'll take that as a no," Vanora laughed.

Recovering herself slightly, but with a blush darkly colouring her cheeks, Cass answered, "Erm, no. That- that- I can't say that's come up."

"Hm," the red-headed women smiled.

"Maybe you should start thinking about it."

Cass looked doubtful, which only seemed to confuse Vanora. And she tried to explain the reasoning behind her doubtful look.

"Women in my time don't tend to have children 'til later in life... I don't know why. It just seems odd to me, to think about having children now... I still feel like I'm too young."

"Hardly, dear, when I was your age-"

"I know, I just feel really young. I'm not, you know, as _mature_ as you... You've got that motherly thing utterly covered and I... I don't think I'd be a very good mother."

Vanora barely managed to repress a laugh.

"I've seen you deal with my lot better than most; trust me, you could handle it."

Cass smiled in return.

"Even so, I... Not that I've really thought about it... I, I just don't think I could before the end of their fifteen years."

Vanora nodded slowly.

"Besides, can you imagine if I _did_ get pregnant? I think Tristan would lock me in a box for nine months just to make sure that nothing happened to me," Cass joked.

"That does sound like something he'd do," Vanora agreed.

"He's so protective... He tried to stop me from going on missions with them again, you know."

"He did?"

Cass nodded.

"I can't say I blame him though," she added.

"If he didn't absolutely have to go on them but he still insisted, then I'd try to stop him from going too. I _don't _wanthim to have to go."

"So he's allowed to be protective then," Vanora said.

"I suppose, but so is Bors then..." Cass countered.

"If you say so. You know though, I think a little protectiveness is warranted... I think we may have picked good men, you know," she said, smiling slightly.

"I think we may have," Cass replied, a small smile finding her own features.

* * *

**Author's Note: Heyyyyy; soooooo this is a bit of an early update (well earlier than when I said June 1st anyway. :P), but since I handed in two 2000 word pieces yesterday, I thought an update was deserved.**

**I really hope you guys liked it and will let me know what you thought! :) Okies, so now I'm off to go write a 2000 words essay on the Uncanny elements of chapter one of **_**The Crimson Petal and the White**_**... *headtodesk* Please review, it might help me get through this 2000 word more easily...**

**Kit xx**


	76. A Debt Repaid

Cass spent most of the remainder of that day with Vanora, who kept her talking for as long as only Vanora could. Eventually, Cass left though, insisting that Vanora get some sleep while she could. But Vanora merely shook her head at the younger woman's concern. With ten children before this one, she knew _exactly_ what she was doing.

"If you see Bors, tell him he can come back now," Vanora said, smiling at Cass as she closed the door behind her.

After leaving Vanora, Cass went to the tavern in hopes of seeing the others. She wanted to find Bors too, to let him know that he was no longer banished from his home, his wife and newborn son.

Coincidentally, Cass was lucky enough to find the Knights there, eating. _Guess that was good timing then_, she thought as she manoeuvred her way through the reasonably busy tavern to the corner table. The Knights looked up and offered their greetings, which she returned, but it was Bors' greeting that made Cass laugh.

"That mean I can go home now?" Bors asked.

She giggled and nodded. That was enough for Bors, who quickly disappeared, taking his meal with him. Cass took her seat beside Tristan and he slid a plate of food towards her. She blinked.

"How did you know I was coming?"

His lip twitched upward for a brief moment and he shrugged. She smiled and shook her head at him but didn't question him further. It seemed to be another coincidence that had worked in Cass' favour that day.

"Just a good guess then, I suppose?" she said, before letting the matter drop.

As they ate, Cass' eyes travelled over the tavern that she used to work in. Business didn't seem to be going quite as smoothly that night; but that was just because of Vanora's absence she supposed.

Cass mentioned that she was considering helping out, but Gawain dissuaded her with a "They're doing fine. The only thing that they can't handle without Vanora is organisation."

"And that's not exactly my strong point," Cass reasoned, realising that she'd probably be more of a hindrance than a help.

"Besides, people have been warned Vanora's not here, so a lot of them haven't been coming in."

"Really?"

Gawain nodded and answered, "A lot of the other girls aren't as good at dealing with the... _rowdier_ men in here and without Vanora to straighten them out, they usually just get sent away."

Lancelot placed his drink on the table and stood, chipping in with, "Which means there are going to be a lot of sober men out there..."

He laughed, then added, "And I will not be one of them."

"Speaking of drinking, I think we should all raise our glasses to another healthy child of our brother's," Arthur said.

"And a healthy mother," Galahad put in.

Those at the table stood and raised their glasses to Vanora and baby Eleven. Cass grinned. She loved toasting things. It appeared to be one of the things that transcended the test of time too. After that they resumed their meal, and Cass' eyes drifted to the bar, where she saw Dagonet, still eating alone, away from everyone else.

No one stood near him now- not after what happened last time. Cass sighed but said nothing. The only thing that made her feel a little better was that Vanora had told her that Dagonet had visited her earlier. Surely that meant that he was a little better, didn't it?

The Knights remained in the tavern until the early hours of the morning, celebrating in their own way before Cass and Tristan left. They made their way back to their room slowly; they had no reason to rush. Of course, it had grown so dark that if they hadn't been going so slowly Cass probably would have found some way to trip over, clumsy as she was.

"The lace on your boot is untied," he said quietly, pausing in their familiar route.

Cass blinked. How could he even see that in the dark? She could barely see her own hand in front of her face. But when she bent down, sure enough, Cass found her lace untied. She made quick work of it and stood up again, only to find Tristan right in front of her.

She blushed a little as he bent his head to kiss her and returned the gesture. She smiled as he pulled back, and though she couldn't see his expression, she was almost certain that he could see hers. _If he can see my shoelace, then he can see my face_, she thought. They returned to their room after their momentary pause, and Cass leant her head against Tristan's shoulder the whole way.

The next morning they awoke to a knock. After swiftly slipping into some loose clothing, Tristan answered the door. Lancelot stood before him, and neither Tristan or Cass missed the way his eyes suggestively swung between the Knight before him and the woman covered in blankets in his bed.

Cass blushed, but Tristan ignored the look, only shutting the door slightly so it blocked her from view. Chuckling, Lancelot shook his head slightly and went on with what news he had.

He informed the two of them that they were being sent on a mission. Cass could hear the sneer in his voice as he elaborated that the purpose of their next dangerous outing was to deliver the things that were stolen by the raiders back to the Roman households that they were taken from. Tristan nodded and turned back to Cass, who let out a long sigh.

"This is going to be interesting," Cass commented.

The pair readied themselves and met the others in the stables, where they were already busy saddling their horses. It didn't take long for them to prepare their own horses, but it seemed to be Bors that was struggling to keep up. Something was bothering him enough to make him take twice as long than he usually would with everything that he tried to accomplish.

Cass looked over at the loud Knight and wondered what it was that was making him act in such a way; and she couldn't push back the feeling that it had something to do with Vanora and baby Eleven. Bors' reluctance to leave apparently did not go unnoticed by the others either, yet no one said a word about it until Arthur entered the stables.

"Bors, what are you doing?" he asked.

The Knight looked up.

"You're not going on this mission."

Bors stared at his commander blankly for a second.

"Extenuating circumstances; and if anyone asks then you're too ill to ride," Arthur explained with a small smile.

Bors' blank expression quickly turned into a broad grin and he made short work of unsaddling his horse. Cass smiled too. She didn't know why Arthur had allowed it, but it was nice. Bors' mind was clearly elsewhere; it may have just been dangerous to have him along. Still, this allowance was just another thing that Cass liked about Arthur.

As the group rode away, Gawain explained Arthur's actions. He revealed that Bors would have been next-to-useless on this mission; as he had been following the births of the rest of his brood. He'd have been too preoccupied thinking of Vanora, just as he had been before. It was better for everyone if he stayed at home.

Cass couldn't help but notice that Dagonet rode alone, behind everyone else, and it made her slightly sad. But she wasn't given long to dwell on the emotion as, when they were some way away from the Fort, Tristan called out an increasingly familiar warning.

"Woads!"

It happened as they rode by a forest. They should have known better really, as the Woads loved to hide in the trees, but the route they had chosen was by far the quickest to this Roman villa. They had taken a chance and, unfortunately, it hadn't paid off.

But Tristan had noticed in time, and they had formed a barrier between the line of trees, the hidden Woads, and the caravan. Arrows came first, but the Knights were too far out of range for accurate aim. So they emerged. A number of men and women, painted blue, ran out of the trees with their weapons raised. Each had a war cry on their lips.

The Knights stood firm on their horses, their own weapons drawn. Tristan and Galahad had their bows at the ready and were picking of some of the more determined and heavier-set Woads.

The two groups met quickly, weapons clashing against each other. The fight soon became bloody. Splatters of the red liquid painted the grass and the bodies of those involved, dead and alive; and the picture it painted was not a pretty one.

The fight did not last long for Cass though, because midway through it, as she drove one of her swords into the chest of an attacker, something startled Kaydin. And then he was off. He started bolting from the battle and toward the line of trees. What was worse was that he wouldn't be swayed by any command that Cass tried to give.

"No, no, no, Kaydin stop!" she yelled as she tried unsuccessfully to pull him to a stop.

But it was no use, flight mode had set in. Something had spooked Kaydin, and he wasn't stopping for anyone. He just ran straight into the forest, even though that was the last place Cass wanted him to go. In fact, he just took her further and further into the increasingly dense forest every time that she tried to stop him.

That was until Cass' head rebounded against an extended branch and she fell, unconscious, to the forest floor. Kaydin didn't even appear to notice that his rider was unhorsed and just continued running though, leaving Cass behind and alone.

She opened her eyes some time later, though she found her surroundings significantly different. As well as the trees that stood ominously around her as before, she was now circled by a group of blue-painted warriors, one imminently closer to her than the others.

Her first thought was of panic. She had no idea what she was supposed to do now that she found herself surrounded by a group of Woads, and she was sure that they could kill her before she even drew her sword. Cass' breathing became uneven as she looked wide-eyed around herself. _Why am I not dead yet?_

"Calm yourself," the closest Woad said softly to her.

Cass blinked, her eyes only then focussing on the woman beside her because she recognised the voice.

"N-Nuala?" she said, more than a little confused.

The Woad woman stared at her for a moment, but eventually she nodded, before placing a finger to her lips in a gesture of silence. Turning away, Nuala said something in a language that Cass didn't understand; whatever her native language was, Cass assumed. Then she turned back to Cass.

"A nasty fall you took there."

Cass frowned. She found herself waking from unconsciousness, surrounded by Woads and a woman that she thought she'd never see again- and _that_ was all that Nuala had to say?

"Nuala, what's... what's going on?"

"You were unconscious when we found you," she said plainly.

"Then why am I still alive...? Surely they'd have wanted to kill me?" Cass said warily eyeing the other Woads that still stood around her.

It appeared to her that at any moment they could move in and finish the job. She was surrounded and damn near defenceless against them. But Nuala just shook her head.

"I stopped them."

Cass' frown deepened as she asked, "How?"

She shrugged, as if the feat had been nothing.

"I told them you saved me once. And that you were born in this land, so you are one of us, regardless of who you fight for."

"Oh... wait, how did you know that? I never told you that I was born here."

Nuala gave a soft and fleeting smile as she replied, "It's something you just know. You look and talk like you like this land too much not to have been born here."

"Oh..." Cass murmured, though she really didn't understand at all.

"We found your horse," Nuala said.

"Wow, you really are saving me today."

"A debt repaid, Cass."

Cass smiled. _Yes_, she thought. _I suppose it is._

"But there's something I'd like to know before we let you go."

Cass raised her brows questioningly.

"How is he?"

Cass frowned, instantly knowing who 'he' was. Secretly, she'd been wondering if Nuala would ask about Dagonet- wondering if she still _cared_ enough to ask. Apparently she did; so Cass did her best to answer honestly.

"I won't lie. Bad."

Nuala gave an expression that appeared painful. A scowl of sorts.

"Tell him I want him to be happy," she started.

"Tell him I'm sorry... Tell him he deserves better than me."

Cass nodded sadly. If they were the words she wanted relayed to the quiet and troubled Knight, then it was the least that Cass could do after being saved from her current predicament. She stood up, joining Nuala on her feet.

Nuala had Kaydin brought over by a Woad that openly glared at Cass as he approached. It made Cass more than uncomfortable, so she just settled her gaze on Nuala instead. The Woad woman handed Kaydin's reins to Cass and gave her a small smile.

She pointed behind Cass and said, "The path you want is that way. No one will touch you- _this_ time."

The warning was ominous, and Cass took note of it. It must have been some feat to convince the others not to kill her as soon as they'd found her, she thought as she remembered that man's open scowl. She mounted Kaydin, and with one look back at Nuala, set off.

Cass managed to find her way out of the forest, if a little painstakingly. Everything seemed to be more overgrown now that she was going at a slow enough pace to notice it. And she didn't want to risk another head-banging incident right now, so she was perhaps a little overly careful on her journey back to the edge of the forest.

As she emerged from the line of trees, Cass found herself to the right of where the caravan stood. Before she could even think to turn Kaydin towards them, Tristan noticed her and rode up. The strange thing was that he seemed to be slightly more frantic than she had ever seen him before. He was quick to dismount and pull her from her horse, muttering something.

"Cass," was the only discernible word that escaped him.

"I'm fine," she replied quickly, trying to dismiss any fear of anything otherwise.

But despite what she'd said, Cass could still see Tristan's eyes roving over her, checking for any sign of injury. Then his hands followed, lifting her chin so that he could examine her better. Fortunately, he discovered nothing but a blossoming bruise on her forehead.

"It doesn't hurt yet," she murmured as his eyes lingered there.

He frowned, but said nothing. It may not be hurting her yet, but it would soon. As Tristan checked over her, she did the same to him. She noted various injuries on him and the others but said nothing. She would enquire about those later. Cass also noticed that regardless of the Woads' best efforts, the caravan had remained intact.

"What happened?" Tristan asked, a question that echoed the expressions on many of the other Knights' faces.

"I just... sort of rode into a tree," she answered slowly, slightly embarrassed at the truth of the statement.

Some of the others laughed.

"We thought the Woads had found you," Gawain started.

"Funny thing is, they _did_ find me."

All laughter ceased in an instant, and the group of men stared blankly at Cass.

"What happened?" Arthur enquired, a subtle frown creasing his brow.

"Actually, Nuala stopped them from killing me."

Dagonet looked up on hearing that.

_ "Nuala_?" Galahad said.

Cass nodded, but refused to say anymore on the subject. And when they realised that she would say no more, the Knights gave up asking. The only person that she had anything to say to about it was Dagonet, and she didn't want Nuala's words heard by the others, no matter who they were. She had a feeling that they just wouldn't understand.

"We should leave," Arthur suggested, glancing quickly back at the tree line in search of any returning Woads.

They swiftly began riding again, and it wasn't long before Dagonet rode up beside her. Cass could tell that he wanted to ask about Nuala, but he couldn't seem to find the words.

"She's alright," Cass said quietly.

"She asked about you."

He frowned at that.

"She asked me to tell you that she's sorry, that you deserve better than her and that she wants you to be happy."

Dagonet's expression remained set into a frown, but he nodded in reply anyway.

"We all want you to be happy," Cass added quietly.

He seemed to hear her comment but he didn't acknowledge it. Dagonet just drifted back to where he had been riding before, no words crossing his lips.

**Author's Note: Woah, so sorry it took me so long to write this chapter. It was another one that I've had an idea for agesssss, and then when it actually came time to write it I found it hard. :/ Same with the next chapter so you are forewarned. Anyway, though I'm not entirely happy with it, I hope you guys like it and will let me know what you think! :)**

**Also, if anyone cares, I passed my first year at University with a 2:1, so woo. :P**

**Kit xx**


	77. An Almost Night In A Roman Villa

When they started riding again, Cass noticed immediately that Tristan was keeping slightly closer to her than usual. And she noticed that he kept looking back at her. _Great, now I'm the liability, not Bors_, she thought. Because if Tristan was worried about her, then he wasn't totally focussed on what he did best. Gawain rode alongside her and noticed the frown she wore.

He leaned closer to her and whispered, "I can't say that I didn't see this coming..."

"What?" Cass replied.

"The way Tristan's watching you."

Cass' gaze flickered back to the Knight that continued to look back at her at regular intervals.

"We literally had to hold Tristan back from going into the forest after you."

She frowned. She knew that he had been distressed- to say the least- when she'd returned to them; she just hadn't thought that it would have been quite that bad.

"Oh great," she muttered.

Gawain reached out and patted her arm reassuringly, "It'll be fine. Just try and stay out of trouble- at least until we get back to the Fort."

He winked at her as Cass rolled her eyes and replied, "Like I've ever managed to stay out of trouble."

They rode on in much the same way for the rest of the day until they finally came across a poor village. Stares of hollow-cheeked faces followed them as they continued riding through and Cass couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable under their gazes. She hoped that they would be out of that village quickly.

As it turned out though, their destination, a reasonable-sized Roman villa, lay right beside the village. Cass waited awkwardly with the others as Arthur conversed with the guards and convinced them to allow the Knights inside the villa's walls with their caravan.

Once inside, they saw a large man that Cass assumed must be the lord of the villa saunter out to meet them. From what she could see, the dark-haired man was middle-aged and quite portly- and he was certainly a contrast to those thin, starved-looking people that she'd seen outside the villa.

"You are Pontus Leonius, lord of this villa?" Arthur questioned.

"I am," he nodded, as if his heavy accent didn't betray him as Roman.

"And you are Artorius Castus. And these," he paused, surveying the others.

"Must be your Knights."

No one said anything in confirmation. It appeared that none of the Knights were all that impressed with the way that Pontus was surveying them, wearing an expression that would be fitting if he was observing a pack of well-groomed dogs.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit, Artorius? No attacks looming, I hope?"

"I should hope not," Arthur replied.

Pontus appeared confused for a moment, until Arthur clarified their presence to him.

"We are actually here because we have retrieved something that has been stolen from you."

The Roman Lord blinked. He knew that his villa had been raided, and he knew exactly what had been stolen. The repairs to the villa had only recently been completed, so that damage was fixed. As to his lost possessions however, he hardly expected to see many- or any- of the stolen items again.

"Oh?" he said curiously.

"In fact, you could say that we have a caravan full of your belongings," Arthur added.

Pontus looked over at the caravan before making his way towards it so that he could take a look inside for himself. The surprise on the man's face was definitely something, Cass thought.

As was the way that he clasped a hand over his mouth and exclaimed, "Praise God, I had never thought to see these again."

"Because we did _nothing_," Lancelot muttered to Cass.

She had to hide her smirk. _Lancelot does have a point there_, she thought as she tried to keep a straight face. The Roman just seemed so happy that his possessions had been returned; the only problem was that he was bestowing his gratitude on God instead of the people who had risked their lives to reclaim and return his things to him.

"I must insist that you stay here tonight, so that we might celebrate God's gift of good fortune to me in sending you to return my things."

"We would be honoured," Arthur replied.

Lancelot shot Cass a sideways smile and rolled his eyes as the dismounted and led their horses away to the stables. After they had ensured that their horses were safe and well-fed, they followed Pontus into his villa where they watched him approach a woman who looked to be in her late thirties.

"Might I introduce my wife, Augustina."

The Knights and Cass nodded to her, though she only looked them up and down in return. Augustina was as buxom as her husband was large and her round face had an unpleasant expression on it, almost as if she could smell something that wasn't to her taste.

When Pontus informed his wife that the Knights had returned their possessions, she too appeared happily surprised. Her expression did not lose its unpleasantness however, even when she appeared to be happy. In fact, Cass could tell that the woman was shooting a number of odd looks at her in particular, though she couldn't fathom why.

"We will celebrate with a feast this evening. Order it so," Pontus said to his wife.

She nodded, but placed a hand on her husband's arm for a moment.

"Perhaps it would be more appropriate that our guests should bathe before dinner," she said looking them over again.

"After all, they have had a long and tiring ride, I'm sure," she added, as if to lessen the insult that she was calling them dirty.

Admittedly, they were mucky, dirty and covered in blood splatters from the fight earlier that day, so the Knights did not mind the suggestion too much. It seemed that only Cass was a little reluctant. The strange looks that Augustina had been shooting over at her made her want anything but to be alone in this villa.

As servants came to lead the Knights and Cass to their respective baths, she muttered to the others, "I think I'd rather be dirty..."

Her reluctance was met with smirks from the others as they were taken in different directions. Though Cass was thankful to find the baths empty when she arrived- she still found bathing amongst others uncomfortable. Her relief did not last for long however as, after she had washed herself, the lady of the house appeared in order to join her.

Cass averted her eyes as the older woman undressed; she could feel her cheeks going red when Augustina slipped into the water just that little bit too close to Cass for her liking. Cass thought that it was quite possibly the most awkward moment of her life.

"What is your name, girl?" Augustina asked after a while.

_Oh great, she's making conversation. That'll make things less awkward_, Cass thought, wishing that she could just sink down into the water to avoid such a thing.

"Cass," she replied.

"Unusual," Augustina commented.

Cass said nothing.

"And what is your age?"

Cass was about to reply that she was eighteen, however she had to pause when she realised that she hadn't been keeping track of time very well. With everything else that had been going on, she hadn't thought about the time. Vanora had had her baby which meant that at least nine months had passed, and she knew that Vanora hadn't got pregnant for some time after her birthday... _Has my birthday already come and gone again?_ she wondered, making a mental note to figure out how long it was until the Knights were relieved of their service to Rome.

"Eighteen," Cass said, unsure whether she was telling her the truth or not.

"Hm. And you're not married?"

Cass blushed, and answered, "No."

Augustina wasn't too impressed with that answer, but she didn't seem surprised. In fact, she looked as if she had been expecting Cass to say that.

"Well, then I must say that it is perfectly vulgar that you ride around with those Knights and spend so much time amongst dirty men."

Cass frowned. _Did she really just say that?_

She couldn't help but quickly reply, "I must say that it is perfectly vulgar that you sit here in such wealth when people just outside your gates seem to be starving."

The woman blinked at Cass' response. She hadn't been expecting her to say anything like that.

"It is not your place to comment on that. You- you should be _whipped_ for speaking in such a way," she spat.

Cass swiftly retorted, "You should not insult my friends; particularly since we've just done you a huge favour by returning your things."

"Favour? Such is their job. Their responsibility," Augustina replied dismissively.

"So it doesn't matter to you that we risked our lives then?"

"Hardly. Now you're just being dramatic."

Cass was outraged. How dare she say anything of the sort? Had she ever done anything dangerous in her overly-well-fed life? She stood and climbed out of the bath, finding a towel and quickly storming away. Cass knew that she needed to calm down or risk getting into trouble.

A servant gave her her things and she dressed in clean clothes before being led to where the other Knights were waiting. They noticed immediately that Cass was in a foul mood when she met them, but she refused to say anything other than a murmur about being angry with Augustina.

She was dreading the feast that they were supposed to attend because she knew the Roman woman would be there. And when the time came, Augustina ensured that she was purposefully late just so that she could walk into the room looking over everyone as if she was far superior to them.

Cass just rolled her eyes and tried her best to ignore the woman. It was easy enough until she started sliding in little insults about the Knights, and especially about Cass. No one said anything, though it wasn't long before they were all visibly starting to get angry.

"Why is it that you're here anyway, girl?"

Cass sighed. Augustina knew her name and was still insisting on calling her girl. _Brilliant._

"Yes, I was under the impression that only boys were to be taken from Sarmatia," Pontus chipped in.

"Cass is here to aid us-" Arthur started.

"Oh, _is_ she now?" Augustina smirked disapprovingly.

Not liking the way the woman was looking at her, Cass frowned and replied, "I am here voluntarily to help protect my friends."

"Voluntarily?"

"Yes, _voluntarily_."

"A woman travelling with six men, let's see," Augustina pondered mockingly.

"So in other words that would make you a whore."

Tristan was about to stand up at that comment, but Cass grasped his arm before he could. Instead, she herself stood and pointed a warning finger at the Roman woman.

"Listen here, _my_ _lady_, I would watch your tongue because it is you that is the one speaking out of turn now."

"Why, what insult is it to call a whore a whore?" Augustina replied dismissively.

"I would watch your tongue because I have no qualms about cutting it out," Cass threatened, her annoyance now genuine anger.

The woman looked shocked, as did her husband. Arthur and the Knights said nothing, but it was needless to say that they hadn't been expecting Cass to say that. Whatever had happened before had clearly been more serious to Cass than they had originally thought.

"You- you cannot say such things, you little-" Augustina started once she had recovered somewhat.

"As we have already established, I am here voluntarily; so I do not owe you _anything_. Not allegiance- _or_ respect," Cass interrupted.

"You do whilst you are to sleep in my home!"

"Then I shall sleep _outside_," Cass retorted angrily.

She'd had enough; and with that final statement, she fled the room quickly and headed for the stables. She was almost afraid of what she might do if she was to remain in that room.

Silence filled the room that Cass had deserted until Arthur stood up and said, "Thank you for your hospitality my lord, my lady; but I think that we shall be returning to the Fort now."

The Knights followed suit and stood, glaring at the Romans. They filed out of the room, one by one, until only Gawain was left. Throwing them a wink, he picked up a chicken leg and mockingly waved it at them in farewell. The expressions on their hosts faces were just as he had hoped they would be; absolutely stunned.

"I'll have you all whipped!" Augustina yelled after them as they disappeared, but none of the Knights took any notice.

As they entered the stables, they found Cass, still fuming as she saddled Kaydin. Some of the Knights started laughing as soon as they saw her, but it was Tristan that she noticed first. He walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. It was a question.

One that she answered with a muttered, "I'm fine. Talk later?"

He nodded. He would settle for speaking to her when they were in private.

"That was... quite brilliant," Galahad grinned, mimicking the expression on the faces of the others.

In fact, Lancelot started applauding. All of the Knights seemed at least amused by what had happened, and Cass was still a little too angry to care.

"Nice to see that old hag get what she deserved," Gawain smiled.

It wasn't until Dagonet patted her on the back that Cass took any notice. She looked around to see a sideways smile on his face that certainly surprised her. _Is he smiling?_ she thought, happily shocked for a moment. Then Arthur approached her, and she became somewhat guilty about what she'd done.

"Sorry," she said.

"She was out of line," Arthur reasoned.

"Though that's not to say that you weren't either."

"She was just so ungrateful- you should have heard her in the baths-"

"It does not matter now; but we should leave before she convinces her husband to set the guards after us and we have some problems."

"I think they would be the ones with the problems," Gawain commented.

And even Arthur smirked at that.

* * *

**Author's Note: So it's been a while, finally got this chapter written though. :D Happy Halloween! I'm excited to freak out drunk people at a Halloween party dressed as Samara from the Ring. Woooo, lol. :P Hope you guys liked it and will let me know what you think! :)**

**Kit xx**


	78. Insecurity

They rode in the dark for a while, even though that wasn't particularly their first choice. Still, they weren't going to stay anywhere near that Roman villa- and they wanted to make sure that they made camp far enough away from the it to be safe. _Who wanted to be anywhere near those people?_ Cass had thought.

Unfortunately though, their journey was cold and windy and the situation was only made worse when it started to rain. Cass' hair stuck to her face because it was so wet and she was finding it quite hard to see.

Tristan kept Cass close to him. She got the feeling that he hadn't quite let go of what happened earlier with the Woads; but since she was finding it difficult to see through the rain, and his eyes were so good, Cass couldn't help but be grateful. As the biting wind and cutting rain hit at them, it became enough to stop them from trying to go much further.

So the group camped against a number of large rocks that helped to shield them slightly, and eventually the rain stopped so they were able to start a fire. Cass was cold, but right now it didn't matter so much to her. She was snuggling up to Tristan and he was keeping her a little warmer.

"I feel a little bad," Cass frowned after a while.

Tristan gave her a questioning look from his place at her side.

"If I hadn't opened my mouth then we'd all be inside in the warmth right now," Cass reasoned.

"We'd be dry too."

Tristan shrugged.

"I prefer being out here than in a Roman estate," he said truthfully.

She looked at him.

"It's no secret that we're not fond of Romans."

"It was still warm in there," she grumbled to herself.

"Less insulting out here though," she added with a small smile.

Tristan's lips quirked upwards a little, but he said nothing. He had sincerely not liked the Roman woman and how much she had got under Cass' skin. He wouldn't tell Cass that though. They were away from the villa now, so she was in no immediate trouble- he still didn't like the thought that, only a few hours ago, she might have been though.

Cass leant her head against him, resting it on his shoulder. The other Knights moved around them, some of them eating, some of them deciding to sleep. Cass and Tristan stayed there for a while, and they ate together. But it didn't take too long for Tristan to notice that Cass was quiet- more so than usual.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

It took Cass a moment before she figured out the best way to reply. The best way to iterate her feelings.

"That woman..."

At the mention of the Roman Lady, Tristan's brows creased a little. He knew that that woman had got to Cass; he'd seen it in her face.

"She was out of order. Just a high-born Roman that didn't know what she was talking about.," Tristan reasoned.

"I- I know that..." Cass muttered after a moment.

He looked at her intently and waited for her to continue.

"I just... really... well, I can just see why she'd think to call me what she did."

Tristan's frown deepened.

"You are not a whore, Cass," he said seriously.

She looked away for a second, her eyes finding the floor.

"I know. I mean, I love you and I know that this is... right, but..." she trailed off.

"What?"

Cass bit her lip for a moment.

"Is that what people think when they see us?" she whispered eventually.

He was silent for a moment. It bothered him greatly that Cass was concerning herself with that vile Roman woman's comments. Augustina had been so wrong about Cass, and it had angered him to even think about what she'd said. Tristan just couldn't understand why Cass seemed to have taken her words to heart.

"What do you see when you see Bors and Vanora?" he questioned after a moment.

She blinked.

"What?"

Cass said nothing; she didn't really understand what that had to do with anything.

"What do you see?" he persisted.

"Well... I don't know... I- I just- they're in love-" she shrugged.

"Exactly; and that is what people see of us."

Cass stared at him for a long while. Is_ that what people see of us?_ she wondered. _Or do they see what Augustina did?_

"You think?" she asked, her teeth teasing her bottom lip.

Tristan nodded.

"Would it matter if they did think as that woman did?" he asked quietly.

He couldn't help asking that now. She had made him a little too curious in this matter.

"No. I suppose not... I don't know why it got to me so much."

He kissed the top of her head.

"It's ridiculous that I even though about it really."

"Don't concern yourself with thoughts of that woman. She is not worth the trouble."

Cass leant into him, wrapping her arms around Tristan. He didn't say as much as other people, but the things he did say always meant so much more to Cass. They fell asleep together, only to be woken for their watch later that night. Thankfully, they saw nothing by their camp except for a fox that ran away when one of the Knights' snores sounded.

The Knights got back to the Fort midway through the next day and met with Arthur at the Round Table to discuss the mission and future mission possibilities. Everyone was hoping that they weren't going to be sent on anymore missions like that, but not even Arthur knew until the news was sent to him.

Then they all went to the tavern for a good, hot meal. Vanora was glad to have them back and made sure that they all knew about it. Her baby was doing well, and she was carrying him around while she was working, occasionally handing him off to Bors.

Cass offered her help, but Vanora told her that she had better sit down or she would tie her to her chair. So Cass stayed where she was and ate with the others. While they were eating though, Cass chose to slip something that had been bothering her into conversation.

"How long is left of your service?"

It appeared that only Tristan heard her speak however. He thought about it for a moment, not quite understanding why Cass had just come out with such a question.

"Less than a year; why?"

_Not exactly the answer I wanted_, she thought.

"Exactly how long?" she tried.

"Just under six months," he replied.

Cass blinked. She _had_ forgotten about her own birthday. But that wasn't the biggest thing that hit her about that statement. Tristan's answer meant that there was just under six months until the Saxon's invaded. Six months until the worst was supposed to happen. She closed her eyes for a moment.

"Why?"

Tristan's voice brought Cass straight out of her thoughts and her eyes flew open. She couldn't tell him that that was where her mind was dwelling, so she tried to cover herself.

"Oh, nothing... I just wondered."

He tilted his head. Clearly he wasn't going to take her vague answer as an explanation.

"I just realised that I've been here for a year and a half... It feels like I've always been here," she explained.

He nodded once.

"Because you belong here," he reasoned simply.

She looked up at him for a moment before blushing a little as she added, "With you."

He kissed her cheek, keeping his lips close to her ear as he replied, "With me."

* * *

**Author's Note: Hi guys, first update of the year! Sorry it took me so long,, and sorry it's a bit short, inspiration's running low and all that. I will try to get better at updating, but Uni work is keeping busy at the moment.**

**Hope you like the chapter and will let me know what you think! :)**

**Kit xx**


	79. Fighting The Fire

It had only been hours since Cass and Tristan had left the tavern and gone to bed. After a mission like the one they had just been on, with an attack from the Woads and a verbal assault from a high-class Roman woman, they were both looking forward to a night in a warm, comfortable bed and an uninterrupted sleep.

Of course, things never usually worked the way that they wanted. Tristan woke up, shooting upright in a moment. Cass' head slid off his chest and hit the bed, the sudden movement jolting her awake too. She sat up and frowned at the Knight beside her.

"What is it? Are you alright?" she asked.

He put a finger to his lips, gesturing for her to be silent. Cass was and she waited patiently for him to speak. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as Tristan listened. It was obvious that he could hear something, but Cass didn't know it until she picked up on it too.

"What is that?"

Tristan said nothing for a second, and then replied, "Screams."

She blinked.

"Get up," he added as he climbed out of their bed.

The two of them got up and dressed quickly, Cass putting on her mission clothes while Tristan threw on the first shirt and trousers that he could find.

"Is the Fort being attacked?" Cass asked.

Tristan just shrugged. Truthfully, he didn't know; but he didn't want to risk their safety. So they both left their room carrying their weapons.

"Wake Lancelot," Tristan said as he went to bang on Dagonet's door.

Cass nodded and went straight for Lancelot's door. After some time knocking, the Knight eventually came to the door. Without meaning to, Cass couldn't help but notice that he was shirtless and there was quite blatantly a sleeping woman in his bed. Cass rolled her eyes.

"I might have known you'd come to me eventually," he smirked sleepily.

"Had enough of your silent scout?"

He was only joking but Cass was far from amused- and she let it be known by the look that she gave him. Surely he knew by now that she didn't appreciate that humour.

"Get a shirt, something's happening outside."

He sighed.

"And just as I'd got my hopes up," he added sarcastically.

She ignored him and turned her attention to Dagonet, who was, at that moment, walking out of his room fully dressed and holding his sword. _Did he just sleep in his clothes?_ Cass wondered, unsure of how the big Knight had managed to ready himself so quickly.

Dagonet nodded to Cass and they followed Tristan outside only to stop in their tracks as soon as they saw the Fort around them.

"Oh my..." Cass murmured.

Lancelot ran out after a moment and joined them in time to pause just like the others had. Each of them stared up at the Fort as the night was lit by flames. Choking smoke swallowed the damage and smothered the orange light of still raging fires.

"Let's go," Lancelot said, prompting the group to run towards the wails of suffering.

It wasn't until they got somewhat nearer to the commotion that they realised how large the fire actually was. _It's_ _huge_, Cass thought, blinking. A number of buildings were already ablaze and it was obvious that it was still spreading.

When Cass and the others arrived, they noticed that Arthur, Galahad, Gawain and Bors were already there, working on quelling the fire with a number of other men.

"We need to control the fire," Arthur yelled over the screaming people and noise of destruction echoing around them.

"We have to stop if from spreading," Gawain chipped in.

The Knights all began to work together in an attempt to put out the fire, throwing water over the flames and helping people get out of their houses before they too caught on fire.

Cass' clumsiness didn't exactly endear her to getting in and out of burning buildings. A fire-fighter, she most certainly was not. So Cass set herself to helping out the people that the Knights had pulled out of the collapsing buildings. And in her task, Cass came across Vanora amongst other civilians watching the drama unfold.

"Vanora!"

"Cass," she said before finding herself distracted by her children running around her.

"Oh goodness, Six, stop running around and stay still. Good to see you're safe."

The last part was directed at Cass.

"You too-" Cass started.

"Seven, Nine, _enough_. Just stand still. It's dangerous," Vanora interrupted, reprimanding her children for messing about whilst the situation was so serious.

Cass frowned as she looked over the faces of Vanora's children, flickering in the firelight. They looked slightly blackened, perhaps from smoke, but almost as if they had been in the fire.

"Were you in the fire?" she asked with a frown.

Vanora nodded.

"A little. It's already gone through our house," she replied sadly.

Cass stared.

"Is everyone safe?"

"We're fine."

"Good, Cass sighed, relieved.

"I'm so sorry about your house."

She hugged the older woman.

"Thank you, Cass. I suppose the house is much better than any of us being injured."

"Definitely," Cass replied.

"I'd better go and help again."

Vanora nodded.

"Of course."

So Cass went back to help people, dragging them further away from the danger. By morning, the fire was extinguished. It had left its mark however. The stink of smoke lingered in the air and refused to drift away. It had wormed it's way into every crack and stone of the Fort by now.

The damage done to the Fort was shocking in the light of day. It was obvious that this was going to take more than a few days to repair. Bors and Vanora's home had burnt down along with a number of others'; so many people were left homeless. And no one had quite been able to determine how many had died in the blaze as of yet.

It was up to Arthur to determine what should be done to help those who were affected by the fire. The biggest problem that he faced was that there was not enough room in the Fort to house everyone outside of their burnt-down homes. There was also the fact that with so many people injured or homeless, they were more vulnerable to attack.

In the end, Arthur came to the conclusion that the safest thing to do would be to send the people without homes away for the time being. Unfortunately, that meant that Vanora and her children would have to go with other refugees to a neighbouring village in the south whilst the repairs were made to the Fort.

Bors wasn't happy at all. He couldn't fit his family into the room he had near Gawain's and Galahad's and he didn't know what to do. He couldn't leave the Fort, but they had to. It wasn't until Cass volunteered to go with Vanora and the children that a solution was found.

That somewhat managed to satisfy Bors to know that his family wouldn't be alone. He knew that Cass could protect them if they needed it. Though Cass' decision worked out well for Bors, there was someone who did not like her plan. In fact, Tristan led Cass outside of the conference room and away from the round table to talk to her.

It was clear to Cass that Tristan wasn't happy. He didn't even speak at first, he just looked at her. _He's more than just unhappy, he's angry_, Cass thought nervously. And it seemed that she was going to have to be the first one to speak.

"I have to go," she started.

He frowned. That obviously wasn't what he'd wanted to hear.

"You don't _have_ to."

Cass shook her head and replied, "I do. I can't just leave Vanora and the children without anyone to protect them."

"I don't like the idea of you leaving."

She said nothing for a moment.

"I don't like it either... but it won't be for long."

He looked away from her. It obviously bothered him a lot more than Cass had suspected it would- and she _had_ expected him to be bothered greatly by it.

"Tristan," she said, trying to get him to look back at her again.

When he eventually did, she could tell how unhappy he was.

"It was bad enough when you went missing in that forest, how will it be when I don't know if you're safe?" Tristan admitted quietly, his tone low.

Cass opened her mouth to respond, but she didn't know what to say. Apparently Tristan's mind had still been lingering on what had happened the other day. And she couldn't do anything to stop him from worrying about her. She never had been able to do anything about that.

"It won't be for long," she repeated.

"I hate the thought of being away from you, but I can't leave Vanora and the children without any protection. I just can't do that."

He said nothing.

"What if we had children, and I couldn't defend myself, wouldn't you want someone who could protect us to volunteer to keep us safe?"

Tristan stared for a moment, something glinted in his dark eyes. He was regarding her oddly, as if he really was jarred by what she'd said.

"I wouldn't let you leave if we had children," he said eventually.

Cass paused. That wasn't what she had meant when she'd made that point. She didn't know what to say about that. But Tristan didn't let her dwell on the matter, because he swiftly moved on.

"But I would wish someone to do as you are though, should it ever be needed."

She kissed him gently in a thankful gesture, in a loving gesture.

"We won't be too far away."

He nodded.

"I'll miss you," Cass added sadly.

"I will miss you too," he murmured quietly.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hi guys! Yay, a reasonably quick update! :D And it's all thanks ****to****RapidOxidation's story 'Volare'. Betaing her story, which if you haven't read it yet is awesome and you definitely should, has given me so much inspiration to write King Arthur stuff again. :D So woo! :D**

**Hope you liked the chapter and will let me know what you thought! :)**

**Kit xx**


	80. Going Away

It wasn't until mid-afternoon that enough supplies had been gathered for the convoy travelling south to set off. It had been decided that they weren't getting an escort from the Knights since the road shouldn't be too dangerous. They had some Romans to ride with them though, just in case. And they had Cass.

So the Knights gathered to bid Cass and Vanora goodbye, even though they weren't too happy to be separated from them. Sending the most vulnerable of their little family away without them made them more than a little nervous. As they said their goodbyes, even Arthur came to instruct both women to be careful. Cass nodded. She would keep Vanora and the children safe.

While Bors spoke to Vanora, Tristan took Cass to the side, where the others could barely hear their hushed voices. His thumb brushed over her cheek and he gave her a serious look.

"Be careful, Cass."

"I will. You know me, not really that much to worry about unless there's anything to trip over," she smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

Tristan didn't smile.

"You have all of your weapons?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Even your bow?"

She nodded.

"Just in case."

"Good."

"I had them the last time you asked too," she said quietly, giving him a sad smile.

She knew he was just worrying about her; he always seemed to be. The Knight took no notice of her sentiment, but instead raised his gaze to the sky. Cass looked in the same direction, confused. Only a second later, Hawk landed on Tristan's outstretched arm and Cass shifted back a little to avoid her flapping wings. Tristan caught her forearm with his free hand and pulled her a little closer again though.

"I want her to go with you," he said quietly.

Cass blinked.

"What? But- but she stays with you-"

"She will stay with you while you are gone," he confirmed.

A little nervous, Cass didn't know what to say. She and Hawk had never really bonded; they were only acquainted in that they were both close to the silent scout. And the Hawk had once startled her out of a tree.

"You're sure?" she asked doubtfully.

Tristan nodded.

He stroked the bird's head and looked at her as he quietly said, "You'll keep an eye on her for me, won't you?"

Cass stared a little but didn't say anything; he was talking more to Hawk than to her. Tristan really was so concerned about having her leave.

"I love you," Cass whispered.

Tristan's lip quirked upwards at the side, and turned back to her.

"I love you too... Stay safe, Cass."

With that, he kissed her fiercely, almost as if he was making up for the time that they would miss. And she would miss him terribly. But, now was not the time to dwell on such thoughts. Cass knew that she had to put on a brave face while the Knights could see her. Otherwise Tristan might never trust her to go.

With a man from the town ready to drive the wagon that the Knights had acquired for Bors and Vanora's brood, she and her children climbed into it, and then they set off.

Cass rode at the side of the wagon on Kaydin for a while. She didn't know how Vanora was coping with all of her children in that cramped space, she could hear them from outside. It was an are-we-there-yet wagon ride if ever she'd heard one.

That was before she noticed that the scout wasn't really doing his job properly. He kept looking back to chat with the soldier next to him. He wasn't paying enough attention to his surroundings and that was only asking for trouble, she knew. Cass rolled her eyes and rode up to the front of the line of people. She may not be an excellent scout, but she had learnt some things from riding with Tristan.

"What are you doing?" the man asked.

"Your job; since you seem to be more concerned with finishing your conversation than our safety."

The man scowled.

"Who do you think you are?"

Cass sighed. _Time to put on a little bravado, _she thought.

"I am one of Arthur's Knights; if you have a problem with what I am doing then I suggest that you take it up with him."

"You're not a Knight, silly woman."

Cass ignored him from then on as he made no move to stop her. Cass wouldn't have done it, but she'd promised that she'd keep Vanora and her children safe so she'd had to. What would be said to Arthur was a matter that would have to be dealt with later.

Cass kept a careful watch over the convoy as well as their surroundings. Luckily, she could see nothing that could cause any alarm, but there was always a lingering doubt in her that she would miss something that Tristan never would. It helped that, during their journey, Hawk flew overhead, occasionally returning to Cass' eye line, but never landing as she would with Tristan. She was like a silent watched, reassuring Cass every so often.

It took most of the day to reach the village that was their destination, and by that point in time, it was too dark to see what they were riding into. Cass wasn't happy that it was up to the Romans to decide where they were sent, which was almost anywhere as far as she could determine.

It turned out that the village they had chosen wasn't too big. In fact, the group of refugees ended up effectively camping on the outskirts of it. Cass wasn't entirely sure how this place was any safer for them than the Fort. _At least at the Fort we had the Knights..._

"At least it's not too cold," Vanora commented.

Cass shrugged. The weather was going to be the least of their problems, they soon found out. There was enough food for the first few days of their absence, but after that the refugees were struggling. There should have been enough food except the village that the Romans had chosen to stop them in could barely feed themselves thanks to a year of failing crops.

It seemed that it was up to Cass to speak to the Romans about the food situation since no one else seemed to want to stand up to them. But, after seeing how Vanora's children were grumbling about feeling hungry, she couldn't have been stopped from talking to them.

The group of soldiers stared at her as she approached the Romans. They had made their own fire and seated themselves around it, trying to stay away from the refugees that they had brought with them. Some of the men sneered; others whispered jokes to each other, but Cass took no notice of them. Apparently something about her was amusing.

"We have a problem," she said.

"Oh?" one man said, somewhat disinterestedly.

"There's not enough food to go round."

The man rolled his eyes and said, "Go away, girl."

"No," she replied seriously.

"You are supposed to be taking care of the people you brought here, not eating all of their food."

The man shrugged.

"Take it up with Arthur when we get back," another man chipped in, smirking.

Cass scowled.

"People are going to start starving if you don't make sure they get food."

"I have an idea," one of them said.

He'd been drinking and it was more than obvious as he spoke.

"Since she seems to be so concerned about their num-nums, why doesn't she find them some food?"

Cass was furious. How dare he say that?

"It's your job!"

The man that she'd taken over scouting from just said, "Not anymore. Now it's _your_ job."

Cass couldn't believe what she had just heard These men were supposed to be protecting and caring for the people that they had escorted, but they were treating this time like it was some sort of holiday. It was ridiculous.

In fact, Cass was so angry that she kicked a bucket of water over their fire and stormed off as cries of the outrage followed behind her. In her opinion, it wasn't nearly enough of the torment that they deserved. When Cass found Vanora again, she vented her feelings as she informed the older woman what had been said.

"What did you expect?" Vanora asked.

"Human decency," Cass bit back, annoyed.

"Romans don't have that, Cass," Vanora said with a sad smile.

"Too right."

After a couple of minutes it hit Cass though. She knew exactly what she needed to do. Casting a last look toward where the Romans were camped, she bid goodbye to Vanora and went to where Kaydin was tied. He seemed pleased to see her, though she was almost sure that that just had something to do with the prospect of him not being tied to a post any longer.

Cass untied his reigns and set to work saddling him. When she was done, she rode off into the closest woods that she could find. Thinking back over her plan, she realised that it probably wasn't the safest option to just ride off alone like that; but she had no choice.

She was determined to go hunting, and she was determined to bring back some food. The problem was that Cass wasn't too good at hunting. But Hawk helped her; she was good at chasing out prey for Cass to aim at- whether or not Cass actually hit the animal was a moment of chance.

It took her a number of hours, and a lot of patience, but eventually, Cass managed to shoot a few rabbits. She felt bad for killing the animals, but if it meant that Vanora's children would eat then she was prepared to do it. So she carried on hunting until night fell and she could see nothing more to shoot at.

**Author's Note: Um, **_**seriously**_** guys? Wow. As we reach the 80th chapter, I am astounded to note that you guys have written over 500 reviews. Like, wow. I don't even know what to say, except thank you to each and every one of you that left a review. You have no idea how much I appreciate it; your support has kept this story going for so long. So, thanks. Much love to you all.**

**Also, hope you enjoy the chapter and will let me know what you think! :)**

**Kit xx**


	81. Rebuilding The Fort

All able-bodied men, Romans, Britons and Knights included, had been enlisted in the effort to rebuild the Fort. As commander, Arthur had coordinated the men into separate teams in an attempt to organise their efforts. His plan was to make the rebuilding of the Fort as efficient as possible.

Firstly, since most of the wood that had been stockpiled previously had been burnt to ash, it was important that more was brought inside the Fort's stone walls. Two groups had been set up that alternately went to the woods beside the Fort - the woods in which Tristan had found Cass - and chopped down trees that could be brought back by horse-drawn carts.

Others were clearing debris and burnt, blackened objects out of the way so that the new structures could be built. Arthur had made the decision that they should make use of the stone that seemed plentiful around the Fort so the area needed to be clear before anything could be built on top.

His plan was to build better structures in order that such a disaster could not threaten so many homes again. Whilst wood was still necessary, the buildings would be sturdier and stood a better chance of lasting this way if a fire should ravage the Fort again.

For the most part, the men involved in rebuilding worked well and without complaint, after all, it had been their homes that had burnt to the ground. Their work was only making it easier for their lives to return to normal again. The Romans, too, worked well, save for a few that moaned about having to pitch in instead of just supervising.

Most of the men were just too glad that the tavern hadn't burnt down to complain. That way, they could still relax after all of their hard work. Complaints were higher without Vanora though, and waits were longer. Somehow the servers that remained just weren't as quick and able as she was.

The Knights were helping out just as much as any of the others, and it was a good job that they did. They were stronger and fitter than a lot of men and worked quicker than most others. Dagonet, in particular, was incredibly helpful in lifting the heavier stones to higher places.

Bors and Tristan had more motivation to work quickly too. The faster the Fort was back to normal, the faster Vanora and Cass could return to them. They didn't like their women being away. Not one bit. Neither of them could rest easy while they were so far from the women they loved - even if Bors joked about getting a rest from his children.

For weeks, the combined efforts of the men gradually put the Fort back together. In fact, the improvements, thanks to Arthurs new designs, were obvious. The new housing was much more Roman, which some disliked, but overall, most couldn't find a fault in the sturdier, less-burnable buildings that they had erected.

Whilst work continued, Arthur had also had to take into consideration other issues to do with the fire. To him, it seemed peculiar that such a blaze could take down so much of the Fort, and he needed to know where it began. It was his job to figure out what had happened, if only to ensure that it didn't happen again.

If it was done on purpose, then he also needed to make sure that the person who did it was discovered and brought to justice. So he had sent Lancelot to investigate. Despite the fact that he sometimes disagreed with a few the inhabitants of the Fort, Lancelot had a smooth tongue, and if there was anyone that Arthur trusted to find answers, it was him.

With half of the Fort's inhabitants sent away with Cass and Vanora, and all the commotion that accompanied the rebuilding, it took Lancelot a few days to discover exactly where the fire had started. He'd investigated certain places that having a fire was a given necessity, the blacksmith and the bakery, for example, but Lancelot knew that it could have been almost any building. The thing that had taken so long was actually finding someone that had seen the blaze start.

It was dark by the time Lancelot reported back to Arthur, and the Knight found his commander in his room, praying as usual. Lancelot waited patiently for his friend to finish, leaning against the doorframe with folded arms. He'd never understand what Arthur saw in his so-called God. Why didn't he just talk to a friend instead of some make-believe deity? Arthur finished not long after Lancelot appeared and he turned to the Knight.

Apparently, he had not noticed Lancelot enter the room as he said, "I didn't hear you."

Lancelot grinned and replied, "That's because I'm so well-trained in being silent and deadly."

Arthur's lips turned upward at the corners, but he didn't say anything.

"I didn't want to interrupt you."

The commander nodded. He knew that his friend disliked his religion, but there was something to be said about how he wouldn't disturb Arthur unless it was important.

"Did you find anything?"

"It took longer than I'd thought, but I finally found someone that saw its start."

Arthur's brows raised in curiosity as he asked, "Who did you find?"

"The baker, Aden."

Arthur let out a deep huff of air from his nose. Of course it would make sense that a fire would start somewhere like the bakery, especially when he considered that they baked mostly at night - an explanation for the time the fire had broken out. It could simply have been an unfortunate incident where things got out of hand for all they knew.

"An accident?"

Lancelot shrugged.

"It seems to be. From what I've been told, Aden had gone to get some more water, leaving his wife and apprentice inside the bakery. When he returned, the building was already ablaze, and the one beside it was catching alight. The two inside were dead before anyone could do anything to save them."

Arthur nodded slowly.

"He was somewhat distraught," Lancelot continued, running a hand across his jaw.

Five people had died in the fire. It wasn't a large amount, since most had managed to get out of their houses before the flames took over. But the baker knew two of them, and Arthur could understand his distress.

"I couldn't get much else out of him."

"Understandably."

The two men were silent for a moment.

"So it would seem that our disaster was a mere accident," Arthur continued.

Lancelot sighed.

"I'm not so certain."

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment before turning toward a table and chairs beside the fire and taking a seat. Things were never as simple as they seemed.

"You might as well take a seat, Lancelot."

The Knight grinned.

"I thought you'd never ask."

They sat down as they so often found themselves seated, ready to discuss the issues of the Fort that were more detailed than those brought up in the conference room. While Arthur remained somewhat straight-backed, Lancelot reclined in his seat, one of his hands draping over the table. He strummed his fingers rhythmically on the table top.

"So what makes you think that the fire wasn't an accident?" Arthur asked.

"There was something odd about the explanation the baker gave."

"Just something odd?"

Lancelot tilted his head to the side a little as he replied, "What he said didn't explain how the fire actually started."

"Perhaps, but if he wasn't there then it hardly could."

"But think about it, Arthur; if you were the baker, and you had an apprentice, would you be the one going out to fetch water in the middle of the night?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed.

"Perhaps not. Things could explain it though; maybe he wanted to go for a walk, maybe he was trying to give his apprentice more responsibility," Arthur reasoned.

The Knight snorted.

"You're always trying to see the best in people, Arthur."

"Maybe."

"It's a dangerous game to play."

Arthur shrugged Lancelot's words off; he knew that they sometimes disagreed on how Arthur dealt with things. That was what made his advice so good.

"You are right that there is something suspicious however."

"Me? Right? There's something new," Lancelot smirked.

Arthur gave his friend an unimpressed glance and said, "We should watch him. If something untoward has happened then he's not going to admit it to us, and if he believes that he has gotten away with a crime then we stand more chance of catching him."

Lancelot shook his head.

"You know, other commanders would question him further, maybe rough him up with a few punches and broken bones."

"I doubt it."

Lancelot gave a sideways smirk and replied, "And I thought you were supposed to know more about the Romans than me."

The next morning Arthur called a meeting and informed the rest of the Knights about what he and Lancelot had discussed. Their feelings were mixed on the subject of what should be done about the baker's questionable story, but they concluded that Tristan should keep watch over the man.

He had the best chance of any of them at maintaining secrecy while keeping watch, they all knew that. He agreed to take on the task with a simple nod and the Knights decided that they would get Tristan closer to the man by stationing him by the bakery and having him help to rebuild it.

Tristan would be able to watch how the baker acted out his grief and how he felt about the proximity of a Knight. Potentially, it could be completely normal and would confirm Aden's story. It would also mean that Tristan would notice if anything was awry.

The section of the Fort that the bakery was located in was the most badly affected by the fire and ended up being one of the last to be rebuilt. That meant that it made more sense to have Tristan helping with the bakery while the other put the finishing touches to other buildings.

Most of the housing that had been destroyed had been rebuilt and was now ready for their inhabitants to move back in, or would be very soon. So as Tristan began his new mission, Arthur sent Galahad ride out to where Cass, Vanora and the others were camped. It was time to bring them home.

* * *

**Author's Note: So it's been a long time. I've been at Uni, I'm in my final year, finishing soon and most of my assignments have been creative writing pieces, so fanfiction's had to take a back seat. :/ Unfortunately, I've had to put my education first and be all sensible...**

**I just wanted to post this so you guys know I'm not abandoning. I WILL finish this, and hopefully I'll be back to regular updates after June (I know, I've said that before, but Uni literally took over my life). So.. sorry for the huge absence, I can't apologise enough.**

**Also, if you've left a review, and I've not replied to it, I am sorry, it's only 'cus I don't think you guys would appreciate such an absentee as me only just replying. I will reply as normal from now on (you know, if anyone's bothered to stick with me after I've been such a numpty lol).**

**Kit xx**


End file.
